


Underneath the Mask

by That_one_transguy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Alternative Universe- Sally Face, Based on a video game, Body Horror, F/F, F/M, Flash Forward, Flashbacks, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Infidelity, M/M, Murder, Teenagers making bad choices
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28514772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_one_transguy/pseuds/That_one_transguy
Summary: Dean Winchester knows first hand that the world is dark and filled with sadness- his face prosthesis a constant reminder, but he was never prepared for the horror the Addison Apartments brought. Can Dean uncover the mysteries and secrets of this town with the help of his friends or will they be lost to history like hundreds before them? Follow Dean through the years and find out.Tags will be updated as fic is posted.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Jo Harvelle/Benny Lafitte
Comments: 9
Kudos: 12





	1. Dreamscapes

**Author's Note:**

> AN: so this is like a weird amalgamation of SPN, Sally Face, and my own ideas. This is the most I’ve ever written for a fic (as you all know). If you don’t know what Sallyface is- well, this fic will give you a small taste of the indie game, and if you have the time, I recommend the playthrough by Jacksepticeye- as it’s the one I based this fic off of. The ending of this WILL be different than sallyface or spn, so watching it won’t spoil anything for you. Anyways, thank you for taking this journey with me and I hope you enjoy!

Dean woke suddenly and violently, his heart racing. There was a phone ringing somewhere- it must've been what woke him up. Where was he? What was he doing here? Where was his Mommy? Why was he alone? So many questions raced across his mind. He took a moment to remember what he knew:

His name is Dean Winchester, and he's 5 and a half years old. His baby brother's name is Sammy, and he's only 2- that's why he's the baby. Dean thinks his daddy’s name is John 'cause that's what Dean's mommy calls him, and his Mommy’s name is Mary 'cause that's what his Daddy calls her. Uncle Bobby is Daddy's friend. He's lots of fun when he watches them so that Mommy and Daddy could have “grown-up” time. Finally, he was in some sort of accident with his Mommy that left his face in bandages. That last one felt really important. He’d have to remember it.

He sat up and looked around the room and decided it was a hospital room, based on what he could remember from hospitals, although he'd been in a hospital was when Sammy was born (but he barely remembered that, so it didn't really count) and when Nana. Daddy's Mommy, died. Unlike Nana’s room- There was no button to call a nurse in if he was hungry, no IV hooked into his arm (although, there was one in the corner disconnected, it looked as though someone had torn it out of their arm in frustration and thrown it against the wall), no heart monitor filling the room with echoes of his heartbeat, no tubes in his nose forcing him to breathe. And no flowers by his bedside. They brought Nana flowers every time they saw her. He'd thought it was a rule to bring sick people's flowers.

Dean had a TV like Nana did. He was wearing the same gown Nana wore, and the same painting of a dog that Nana did, the same set of drawers with wheels at the bottom like Nana had. He bet if he opened the top drawer he’d even see the same copy of the bible that Nana kept. He must be dying like Nana, then.

Dean found the ringing phone next to his bed and picked it up,” H-hello?” his voice was hoarse, his throat felt very sore. He thought he might like some juice- Mommy always gave him apple.

“It’s okay, Dean,” a gravelly voice he’d never heard before answered. It was oddly flat. Dean couldn't help but think that it felt wrong, “it’s all going to be alright, Dean. Come see.”

“Who is this?”

The phone disconnected. That was a… helpful conversation. He still didn’t know where he was, and no adult checked on him yet.

Dean took one last glance around the room from his bed and shifted so his bare toes brushed against the cold tile floor. Looking behind himself, he saw his pillow and part of his bed covered in dry blood. He must’ve been bleeding a lot. He tried to stand from there but found it difficult at first- his legs jelly from disuse. Dean fell straight to the floor. How long had he been asleep? He could feel tears welling up in his eyes, but he was a big boy-he could do this. He wiped at his eyes with his arm, forced himself up, and tried again. This time staying up. Dean took a tentative step towards the door. His legs wobbled, but he ultimately remained upright. He took another step, a bit more sturdy than the last- feeling confident, he released his hold on the bed and rushed the next few until he clung to the door.

He took a moment to catch his breath before trying the doorknob. Oh. It was locked. That meant he couldn’t get out yet. Maybe there was a key he could use somewhere? Dean remembered his Uncle Bobby promised to teach him to pick locks when he was older, he wished he was older now, stuck scared and alone with no way out. His efforts weren't completely wasted though, he could reach the light switch from here if he stood on his tip-toes. He was in a hospital! He was so glad to have been right. But now, a heavier feeling settled low in his belly. Dread. Where was his Mommy? Why was he here alone? Why couldn’t he hear anyone out in the halls?

Dean stepped away from the door, his steps sturdier this time, and made his way across the room. He glanced at the counter-tops that he could see above to be sure, no key there.The drawers then. He opened the first one, and sure enough, there Was Nana’s bible. But no key. Dean opened the second one. Empty except for a note that had gibberish on it. “jkgt cgqk av.” That's just stupid, he thought to himself, why write it down if no one can read it? He had to focus on getting the key. He lay down on the floor, careful of his bandages, and looked underneath the drawers. Oh, there it was. Dean stood and pushed the drawers out of his way. They were pretty light, considering they felt like they were made of solid wood.

He made his way back to the door, sticking the key in and turning it and celebrating when it unlocked. He rushed out of the room, only to find himself in a dirty hallway that had a faded grey and red brick wall on each end. The door he just came from had a faded, but thick Q. It seemed he was right smack in the middle of five doors, so he went left. The first door he tried had an O painted on it, but it was locked. Same for the next one, but it had a P. Same result for the door painted with an R. Dean was quickly losing hope, but the last door, S, opened without issue- leading directly into another hallway that looked dirtier than the one he'd just come from. Grime painted the walls, the floor had more bald spots than tile, and something dark red dripped down from the ceiling.It smelled bad, and he was getting terrified now.

But there were another five doors to choose from. He was already at the far end, so he made his way towards the other end. The door he just came from now had an E instead of an S, so he knew it wasn't right. He moved to the next one- D; it was locked. Of course. The next door was C and B were locked when he tried them. As it was, it led to the most disgusting hallway he’d ever seen. Black goo dripped from the ceiling to the walls and even onto the floor. Dean wasn’t sure, but he could’ve sworn he saw bones in one corner. Oh geez, he was really scared now.

Dean was losing hope. He was scared and cold and alone. He'd never see Mama or Sammy or Bobby or anyone ever again. Never get a grilled cheese and soup when he is sick again. Never have mama kiss his skinned knees again. Never sit in his dad's long, black car again. Never feel another warm hug from mama again. Sammy would never pull his hair again. Or smile at him in the innocent way only babies could smile at people. Dean would never hear his daddy sing his weird lullabies again. And Uncle Bobby would never teach him how to pick a lock and he’d make no friends because he'd die here and nobody would ever know because there weren't flowers by his bed when he woke up- They’d never ever find him again. He felt tears sting this time, though he let himself cry. Fat tears rolled down his face as he hoarsely screamed his frustrations out. He beat his fists and legs on the floor, flailing wildly until he tired himself out. His sobs slowly lessened to gasping cries.

Dean stood, feeling slightly refreshed and more determined. He wiped his face with arm again and stood up. He was a big kid! He could do this, he could get out and see his baby brother and Mommy again. The door in front of him, the one he just came from read K. So far he’d gone through doors S and A. Dean was smarter than his teachers gave him, and it was obvious the doors were spelling something. He skipped door L and went straight to door M. Somehow it took him straight outside where the rain came down in sheets. There were trees just across the road, but he wasn’t supposed to cross without a grownup. He kept walking, noticing a large group of people. They all wore black.

Dean ran up to them without thinking, they must know where he is- or if they didn’t they’d know where Mommy was. “E-excuse me? Can someone help me?” Nobody turned “Please, I think I’m lost and I don’t know where my Mommy is…” He felt close to crying again.

Still nobody turned. “Please! I’m scared! Somebody help!”

Still no one turned. “Can anybody hear me?” No answer. They must be really concentrated on what they were doing. He doesn’t know why, but Dean keeps walking. A little further up, there was a tree and underneath it was a statue of an angel. Her hands covered her face and if Dean wasn’t in the rain himself, he would’ve thought she was crying actual tears. Looking at her unsettled him, but she reminded him of his Mommy in a way. Dean wanted to wipe away her tears like he did for his mommy after Mommy and Daddy were done yelling at each other.

“Pity not me, child. I did bury that lady alive” Dean heard an outside voice in his head- almost like the angel lady was speaking to him.

Huh? He thought, confused and shocked.

“Wend, young issue, see f'r thyself” why couldn’t she speak plain English. He walked past her, into a graveyard. There, right ahead of him, was an open grave with a gravestone he was really good at reading, he’d have to tell mommy he’d read it all by himself. Well, he thought, embarrassed, he’d have to read it first. He went letter by letter, slowly.

“M-A-R-Y, that's mommy's name. W-I-N-C-H-E-S-T-E-R. That's my last name, this must belong to mommy!" he exclaimed, he'd have to show her when he found her "1954- 1984. In Loving Memory.”

Oh. He knew what that last part meant, Daddy told him when Nana died. Dean sat dumbly for a moment. He found his mommy, but now he was more scared than ever. He was really, really alone now. He shook his head, to get the bad thoughts to go away, if mommy was dead, he’d have to take care of Sammy. Dean had to find Daddy and Sammy then.

He walked up to the hole in the ground, wondering if he could see Mommy there-but he suddenly found himself in the bottom of the grave, no coffin in sight. Weren't people typically buried in graves? This one seemed to stretch forever and ever. Until it didn’t and he was back in the hospital again, only this time it was different. The door in front of him had no letters, not numbers. It instead had bits of scratched metal where a name would be- but that was it. It was cracked open just a smidge, but Dean remembered he was a brave boy. He pushed it open to reveal his house in Kansas.

Well, a version of home anyway. This one was trashed, his and Sammy’s toys were nowhere to be found. The flowery wallpaper that his mommy had chosen was now peeling and cracked. The floor had more holes in it than the hospital, the pretty lamp with all the glass beads his mommy had brought home with a huge smile- the same one she had when she brought Sammy home- was now smashed on the floor in a jillion billion pieces.

Dean was only a little sad about the lamp, he was always too scared to be near it. But just in front of him he saw his daddy.

“Daddy?”, he asked- his throat no longer sore, ” What’s going on? Where’s mommy?”

“You ain’t my son. My Dean isn't a killer” his daddy spoke in a flat, emotionless voice before vanishing, a white outline of his body on the wall now.

Dean was really terrified. He let the tears pricking at his eyes again to flow freely as he continued walking from his own home right into a mortuary, across the small doors and a bit onto the floor, written in what he could only assume was blood was- “IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT”.One drawer was open. He supposed that was important, but Dean kept walking.

There at the end was a hospital bed, like he’d just left, only it wasn’t his.

“Mommy? Y-you’re alive? I thought….” He trailed off when he received no response. “Mommy?”

And like the people in black, he received no response.

He looked closer, her lips a pale blue. She seemed past saving now- Dean knew the truth now, his mommy was dead and there was nothing he - in his infinitely tiny body could do about it.

End Chapter 1


	2. Meeting the neighbors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got super long, so I had to split it. The next chapter will be out on the 15th, though. Good news though: I will be making the attempt to publish a new chapter every Friday around midnight MST.   
> The warnings and a special announcement are in the end notes.

"That's where the dream ends every time, Doc." Dean groused. He wasn't big on the whole 'sharing and caring' the rehab program forced down his throat, but they'd made it crystal clear that if he ever wanted to visit his brother again- to get out and see the sun, he'd have to play along and start talking to whatever quack they put in front of him- cooperation unto healing or some crap like that- Sammy would have agreed with it and maybe that was what kept Dean talking. Dean’s key problem though was that too many of the dickless, saggy, old psychiatrists tried to force him to take off his prosthetic during their appointments, saying it felt 'impersonal' not to talk to him "face to face" whatever that meant. The prosthetic was his face- had been since he was a damn ankle biter. He'd end up punching them when they tried to remove it by force, they'd end up labeling him "uncooperative" and giving him 2 weeks of isolation before reassigning him and the cycle would repeat.

Dr. Fitzgerald or Garth- as he'd asked Dean to call him- was the latest one. In Dean's humble opinion, he was... better. Dean wouldn't be throwing the man any parades- not a fan of the "you’re valid no matter what your feeling" kind of crap they had going on here- but he had to admit that the unconventionally young psychiatrist had his strengths. He didn't mind it one bit that during their first session Dean had outright said "I ain't takin' my face off, I don't give a damn how 'impersonal’ it feels to you, you don't ask- or force- that of me and I'll cooperate" Dean would chuckle to himself whenever he thought about Garth's response to that, but that was for another time.

"How often did you have that dream, Dean-o?" Garth asked simply. Dean didn't bother complaining about 'Dean-o' it would just fall on deaf ears.

"It used to be damn near every night- each detail always the same, but after..." he swallowed, "after seeing the body from the apartments, it was... well, heh, let's just say I wasn't too worried about it anymore."

Garth glanced at the clock on the wall behind Dean," We still have a little under an hour left before they come to get you for your rec time. Why don't you tell me about that second body? If you're comfy with it this time. If not, we can table it and end early so you can have some extra art time."

Dean shifted uncomfortably in the old chair, debating. No matter which 'doctor' he'd seen -the office was always the same- the walls were always the same puke green (who did they think that comforted?), the clock was always behind him so he couldn't count the minutes, he always sat in the same ancient armchair. The quacks attempting to pick his brain always across from him in a brown, comfortable looking office chair. He would never say it, but he appreciated Garth giving him choices, he'd had issues in the past with being told what to do. He unclasped his prosthetic, taking it off- the cold air stinging his sensitive skin- and placed it on the table in front of him. If Garth had any thoughts or reactions, he kept them to himself for once. All he did was wait for Dean to continue.

He took a deep breath, blowing it out of his mouth one big go, "I was 15. We had just left Kansas- there was," Dean let out a humorless laugh, "I had an 'incident' at school. I had popped some punk in the mouth, knocked a few of his teeth out for trying ta take off my face. The school couldn't get a hold of my old man, so they called Bobby to come and get me. He'd found him in some gutter, on the way, missing his pants and wallet. That night Bobby'd laid into us both- told us to clean up our acts, heh. He was the one that suggested moving, he helped us haul ass 'fresh start, idjits' he'd said..."

"It sounds like Bobby was good for you."

"Yeah," Dean said, forcing tears back-he loved Bobby like a second dad, "He was... He was great. He was actually the one who got us into that place, said his old friend Rufus used to live there. He didn't know what would happen."

"Go on, Dean. Tell me what happened back then."

~ 14 Years ago ~

They ended up on the curb of the Addison apartments by late evening. Dean immediately felt off, he didn't know why though. The place gave him the chills, and he’d be living there?

"Now, I called in a lot of favors from a lot of old friends to get you idjits in this place overnight. So don't mess it up, I ain't got any more favors to call in." Bobby warned before they headed into the building.

"Of course, Bobby", the father and son replied in unison, knowing their family friend was serious.

After collecting their keys, the three went back to the truck to unload- Bobby would take off after dinner so they agreed it would be best to get everything unloaded then have some grub. They found themselves grateful for the elevator since John and Dean ended up on the fourth floor- apartment 402, a modest two-bedroom with an apparently open kitchen.

It only took them a few hours to unload the truck, and after they ordered dinner, John insisted on paying after all the strings that Bobby had pulled for them. The older men split a plain pepperoni, Dean somehow convinced his dad to let him get his favorite- sausage, green peppers, and mushrooms. They tipped the delivery man well and ate in silence, each of them lost in their thoughts.

When it was time for Bobby to leave, Dean let his father bid goodbye first, knowing he would take longer. When the older Winchester pulled away, he pulled his prosthetic off- the first time he'd done so in front of someone who wasn't his dad- and rushed in, clinging to the older man- soaking him up as much as he could. His skin was still sensitive, and the older man’s shirt smarted, but Dean didn't want him to go, Bobby was the only thing that made life bearable in these last few years, and he didn't know what he was going to do without him.

"Ya gotta let me go, son," in a rare moment of tenderness, he let his fingers ruffle Dean's hair- he sounded choked when he carried on, "I love you too kid, but you an' your daddy need this time to mend fences, ya hear me? In a few years, you come find me in Sioux Falls- I'll get cha set up in my shop, Okay?"

Dean swallowed thickly and stepped back, putting the prosthetic back on before the old man could see what was underneath it, "Alright, Bobby. I'll call you soon"

The goodbyes drained both Winchester men. They wordlessly left the unpacking for the next day. They stood silently, watching out the living room window as Bobby's taillights faded into the night. Dean had no escape from the stifling silence that had plagued them since they left now. He didn't know if his Dad blamed him for their leaving- but the teen ultimately decided he didn't care.

"I'm," His dad cleared his throat and shuffled in place," I'm going to put the rest of the grub in the fridge you can have it for breakfast and lunch- I gotta head out early to look for work. I expect you to be unpacking while I'm out and I’ll be back in the afternoon to check on you"

"Okay." was Dean's flat reply.

"I'm taking the room furthest from the door, Dean, and I don't want any tantrums."

"Okay." another flat reply.

His dad looked like he was going to say something else, but ultimately closed his mouth. He took a deep breath, made sure he locked the front door, and marched himself into the bedroom he'd apparently claimed, slamming the door behind him and leaving Dean alone and empty in the living room.

Dean sat there, in the dark, just staring at the blank wall in front of him. He didn't know to expect from his dad, honestly back in Kansas, he would've gotten an ass-whooping for not answering with at least a 'sir' tacked on, but if Bobby was serious- really, really serious- about them mending their fences, well, Dad wouldn't say anything to him on the first night- not when Dean could turn around and call Bobby. Dean sighed heavily before standing up and stretching his arms over his head. They didn’t bother bringing bed frames or box springs, figuring they could buy them in town, so Dean slept on a bare mattress that first night. No pillow, no blanket, no nothing. It took a while, but he did eventually fall into a dreamless sleep.

He didn’t know what time he woke up- but as soon as he did; he ate a quick breakfast of cold pizza and then he started unpacking the kitchen, first figuring they’d need their pots and pans if Dean ever wanted any proper meals. It didn’t take long-they had little to begin with anyway and when he finished; he allowed himself to look at the clock- huh; it was only mid-morning.Bathroom was next but only took a few seconds. The only thing that went in there were his dad’s sleep-aids. He moved into the living room next. Shifting the furniture against the walls like he knew his dad liked. “Easy escape routes, Dean” his dad’s voice chimed in his head. They watched very little television, and when they did, it was always at night, so opposite the window it went. The few books they had could go on the coffee table next to the couch. And that was the living room finished- just in time too, as his Dad walked in just as Dean set the last book down.

“I didn’t think you were listening last night,” said his dad as he looked around the room, ” did you just get the living room or…?”

“Kitchen and bathroom too, sir.” Dean stood at attention, he learned early on that it was best to stand at full attention whenever John Winchester was around. 

His dad, for a moment, looked impressed- before going into the kitchen to double check his work. Dean stayed where he was, hands now clasped behind his back, which was ram-rod straight. He could hear different cabinets open and close, but he didn’t bother to look towards the sounds- if his dad wanted him to turn around, he would’ve said so. He heard the oven door open and close as well. He was curious but said nothing. Apparently his work was satisfactory as his dad came back into the living room without complaint. 

“You did good, Dean.” Dean relaxed, “but we need to talk.”- and there went his relaxation.

“Bobby sent us here to mend fences, Dean. That means until he comes here for his mid-year check- no army posture, no calling me sir, and no trouble at school. Sound good?”

“Sounds good, Dad.”

“Good. Then this will be our new beginning, we can leave the ugly Lawrence business behind us. Look, you’re over half-way done- why don’t you go explore the building and try to make some friends. I’ll finish up whatever you missed.”.

“Dad, what do you think about our new place?”

“Well, Dean, it’s not as nice as our house back in Lawrence, but Bobby really pulled a miracle out of his ass for this. You’d best be grateful.”

“I am sir- I mean Dad. I really am. It’s just… I miss Lawrence. I had a life there.”

His dad sighed, “Dean, I know, but you understand why we had to leave? Can’t you just give it a chance? Even if there aren’t other kids here, maybe you’ll make some friends in school”

Dean didn’t want friends, he wanted his life back in Lawrence. He didn’t dare say that, though. “Yeah, I guess.” He might as well explore. This conversation was leading to dangerous territory. 

“Oh, and Dean?” He turned to look at his dad. “Try not to get into too much trouble?”

“Same goes for you!” Dean shot back, he was going to feel that later, but it was worth it to see that sour-lemon look cross over the old man’s face. 

Before he left, he went into his room and grabbed his Gameboy from where he’d thrown it last night. He fully intended on sitting outside their door and playing it if he found nothing interesting while he “explored” he knew that really meant “check out the neighbors and report anything weird to me or Bobby” He didn’t mind, the apartment was getting stuffy. He snorted to himself as he walked out the door- and immediately ran into a uniformed officer who stood outside 403. 

“Hey, watch where you’re going, short-stop!”

“Sorry, sorry,” His hands up in a placating manor, Dean didn’t trust the police, but that didn’t mean he was going to be stupid about it. He peaked around the heavy-set blonde man, ” what’s with the crime scene tape, Mr. Officer?”

“None of your business, twerp. Now get lost.” the officer mumbled something under his breath about weird kids in Halloween masks. Dean didn’t bother saying anything else-he knew when to stop with the law. It seemed he wouldn’t get far with this ass-clown. He turned and walked the other way, past his door, and knocked on 401. No one was home. Elevator it was, he guessed. There were five floors and a basement-that apparently required a key card to access. He figured he could work from the top up, so floor five was his first stop.

Holy shit, Dean thought as he stepped off the elevator, someone screwed this place up all the hell. He looked to the left and saw a sign reading: 

This floor is currently being renovated. For your safety, please make your way to the nearest exit.

  
  


Like any normal 15-year-old boy, he completely disregarded it and stepped further onto the floor. Pieces of the wall scattered everywhere and some parts of the floor were missing or just pulled up. It looked like no one had been up there for weeks. He tried the door closest to the elevator, locked. He looked around for something to pick the lock with, no dice. Second door, though he hit the jackpot, hah, it opened right up- where he saw a dirty, long-haired man rocking back and forth on the newspaper covered floor. 

“Oops, sorry dude. Didn’t think anyone lived here.” The man didn’t reply, just kept rocking, ” Hello? Dude? You good?”

“You shouldn’t have come here.” He speaks, creepy, but Dean still counted it as a win. “It’s a dark place, this building. Horrible things have happened here….”

“Dude? You’re creeping me out, you sure you’re okay? I can call an ambulance, if you need it?” The sound of knocking at the door ripped Dean’s attention away. He whipped around to face it, “Hello?” He called, getting no answer. He turned back around only to see the man he’d just been talking to vanished.

“What the fuck?” He took a deep breath. He was used to this. Really. He just needed a second.

For a second he’d forgotten which door he came in, and accidentally went past it, to the bathroom- which was, of course, locked. Were those hand-prints? Okay, deep breath Dean, he thought to himself, let’s just get out of this apartment first. He finally got the right door and slipped out into the hall. He didn’t mind the fifth floor, and he wasn’t scared- he wasn’t- it was too much spook all in one place. He walked past the elevator, proving to the none one around that he was not afraid and tried the last two doors on the floor. They were both locked. The number plate for the last door in the hallway had fallen off and was now on the floor in front of it. Dean briefly wondered if it were older than the other apartments on this floor before shaking his head and walking back to the elevator. 

He’d already seen all of his floor he could, so he moved onto the third floor. To his right was a wet floor sign- it took up the whole hallway, to where he couldn’t even get past if he wanted to. No matter left, it was. He knocked on 302. No answer. Right past the door, he saw a man with short, brown hair mopping- apparently lost in thought.

“Hello, sir.” John had raised Dean with manners, damnit, even if he chose not to use them most of the time.

“Oh! ” he jumped, startled out of whatever trance the mop had put him in. Dean couldn't quite place where the man was from, “Hello. You startled me there. You’re new, right? You and your dad moved into….” he trailed off, trying to remember. 

“Uh, 402, sir” Dean helpfully supplied. 

"With all the buzz today, I’d completely forgotten to go up and introduce myself. I’m Jimmy, Jimmy Novak- I take care of this place, keep things up and running, y’know?” He reached her hand out.

“Dean Winchester, sir. My dad is John Winchester.” Dean took his hand and shook it once before letting go “You mind me asking how long you’ve worked here?”

“Oh, a little under 10 years now, but I live here too. Don’t you listen to the negativity here, It’s a lovely building and I’m happy to live here.” 

“Negativity , sir?” What did everyone say? Maybe they got the same vibe that Dean did when he arrived. 

“I try not to listen to it, it it's garbage, you know. It's natural they'd have complaints, though. This building is a little under a hundred years old- it's always one thing or another with these older builds, you know?” Dean didn't know, his house back in Lawrence was just slightly older him- and Bobby had always been on top of his house maintenance, so Dean had nothing to complain about, but he let Jimmy continue.

"You'll hear no complaint from me, though. I'm a man of action. If it ain't working, I'll take care of it myself." He smiled like he was remembering something," but you can't let other people get ya down, it's no way to live. Take from me, you focus on the positives, the things and people that make you happy, you'll get a lot further along in life."

Dean decided he liked this dude. Anyone who could keep that attitude was good in his book, which reminded him...

"You got any ideas about what happened in 403, sir?" He wondered how much he could get out of her. 

Jimmy frowned "Aren't you a curious one. It's a shame that you and your dad got this crummy first impression- Things around here typically aren't so gruesome.... Poor Mrs. Mills..." he trailed off. 

"What happened to Mrs. Mills, sir?" Dean knew he was pushing his luck here, but didn't hurt to try. 

"Never you mind that, like I said earlier- it's best to keep your mind on happy thoughts." Damn. Well, maybe he could tell him where there were other teens- his dad told him to 'make friends' and he'd know if Dean was lying.

"You know of anything fun around here, then? I haven't run into anyone around my age yet, sir."

"Actually, I have a son about your age. I think you and Cassie would get along great. He'd be happy to make more friends- he's probably downstairs in our apartment listening to his ,"Jams" you should go introduce yourself."

Why the hell not? "Sure, I can go say hi." 

"Make sure you tell him I sent you, he's going through his rebellious phase and has a habit of hitting first and asking questions later. Here's a copy of the key card for the elevator," he handed Dean a mostly blank card with a barcode on the back," you'll need it to access the basement, and I always keep a few on me just in case."

"Awesome, thank you, sir." He shoved it into the pocket of his red jeans and was honestly amazed something was successful here for once. "One more question before I go? You said this building was old, sir, any chance it's haunted?"

"Dean, I've been taking care of these apartments for a long-time, I've never seen and ghosts or ghouls. They were just made up by over-active imaginations. "

"That's fair," Dean didn't really agree with him, but figured it was time to move on, anyway.

He smiled again, “Don’t be a stranger, you ever need anything at all, just let me know- I’ll be on it like bees on honey.”

“Well, thank you, sir.” Dean smiled widely. He bid her a quick goodbye and carried on.

Jimmy seemed nice, he was a pleasant contrast to his own father, maybe his son was the same- he figured he might as well talk to this "Cassie". He would stop in the basement eventually, but he figured he'd take the floors in order-just to be thorough. He stepped off the elevator and onto the second floor. And started knocking on doors. He lucked out with 201 (although he was pretty sure he heard a goat in there),202, and 203. 

Finally he tried 204, and shockingly received an answer, albeit a gruff, nasally one, ” Who’s there?” Called the voice from the other side of the door. 

“Hey, uh, I’m Dean-just moved in. I’m, uh, going around and introducing myself to the neighbors.”

“Well, why didn’t you say so sooner, come on in.”

He’d rather not, but it seemed the person on the other side of the door would not make an appearance, and Dean was too curious to pass it up- that he supposed it might kill him someday. Dean opened the door and walked into the apartment. It was fairly tidy, with children’s figurines lining the walls- floor to ceiling. As far as Dean could see, there wasn’t a spec of dust on any of them. It wasn’t until he turned his head to look at the person who invited him in to see why that was surprising. Sat in a sweat-stained arm chair was a large man with short brown hair, his stomach spilled over the arms of the chair, his white tank top- stained with what looked to be weeks old cheeto dust and darker less obvious to pinpoint stains. The only clean part of the man seemed to be his sandal- which looked brand-new, maybe less than a week old.

“Yeah, like I said out there,” he used his head to point,” I’m Dean. I just moved in with my dad, John.”

“What the hell’s wrong with your face, kid?” Dean sighed internally. There was always one, but that didn’t make it any less rude. Before Dean could answer, the man interrupted him, ” Wait, I know. It’s the 21st century, you Millennials and your weird self-expression. Back in my day, every Tom, Dick, and Harry had the same haircut and shirt style. Oh, how far we’ve fallen. Just as long as you have joined none of those violent gangs, wait, you’re not in a gang, right?”

Dean waited a second to make sure the fat, ugly man had finished talking, “No- nothing like that.”

“Well then, you’re alright in my book. I’m Metatron, everyone calls me Marv though and I’m older than I look, so don’t go getting any ideas about trying to get me to join a gang. Don’t touch my things and we’ll be cool. I’m a collector, young man, I collect many things and they’re like my family. So you mess with them, you mess with my family, you got it?” 

“Not a problem, Marv.” Dean really doubted anyone called this sack of lard that, but he would not call him out on it. The dude’s life was already sad.

“That’s good to hear. You’re quiet, you must be in speechless because you’ve never seen such a large and amazing collection.” 

“I’m sure that’s it.” Dean replied sarcastically.

“Don’t fret,” apparently the dude couldn’t pick up sarcasm, “Anytime I’m home, which is always, you can come and soak it all in again. This place is my personal heaven on earth. It’s perfect, just me and my stuff, y’know? I’m not lonely though, so don’t you go thinking that! I’m surrounded by all the companionship anyone could ever possibly want. I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes visitors are nice from time to time, though. “ 

So apparently, this dude had a problem shutting up. Dean turned on his heal, wordlessly, and stalked to the door. Only glancing at the wall next to him by accident. “Bask in my glorious collection of Glitter Ponies,” Marv shouted from his chair- oh god, thought Dean, not again. “I’m so accomplished, I have the honor so few can claim- a complete collection. Stripper rules apply though- look, but do not touch.” 

Dean really wondered how “Marv” knew what stripper rules were- never mind, he decided. He didn’t want to know. “Dude, what is a ‘Glitter Pony’?” He knew he was going to regret that question.

“Marv” only stared at him in silence, it’s not like Dean killed his puppy. 

“You must’ve had one fucked up childhood to not know what Glitter Ponies are. What kind of life have you been living until now?” A good one, Dean thought to himself. “Have you really not heard of My Glitter Ponies: Rainbow Spectacular? It’s only the best piece of media ever produced!” And yep, Dean was sorry he asked. “It’s got everything you could want in entertainment: drama, action, romance, and raw sexual tension. Don’t even get me started on the ponies.”

Oh, god, Dean wanted to hurl. “ Heh, guess I missed that one.”

“Look for it- on the Television, I promise you won’t regret it.” Dean regretted a lot of things right now. 

“Weeeeeeell,” Dean inched towards the door,” gotta go. Neighbors to meet, ponies to watch, selves to express. Anyway, bye.” He quickly left, closing the door behind him. 

It’s okay, Dean, he told himself, the pervert can’t hurt you out here. He’d had his fill of the second floor already. He was honestly glad he wouldn’t have much interaction with that guy; he was a grade A weirdo. He had one more floor and he could go home, make his report, and fall into the open arms of his warm bed. He got into the elevator and headed down. He had to say after the shit-show that was the fifth floor and the ass rodeo that was Metatron, Dean was...disappointed by the near normalcy of the first floor. 

He stepped right off the elevator, towards the door he did had gotten their keys from last night. Dean could clearly see the label “Addison” across the mail slot, but nothing else. He remembered that the dude living there didn’t come out last night, instead choosing to pass them through the mailbox. He knocked on the door, anyway. “Addison” answered through the mail slot. 

“You're like- wait, let me try again.,” The mail slot closed and reopened, “Why hello there, young Dean, just moved into 402 with his old man. What can I do for you?”

“Dude, what are you? Some Stalker or something, that was creepy.”

“I know everything that happens in this building- you’d do well to remember that.”

“Okay then. You gonna invite me in?”

“Oh...no. I like my privacy, I’m sure you of all people would understand, but I will give tea to those that ask.”

“Welp. Bye, dude.” Dean didn’t find out anything useful, but he was uncomfortable, so he figured he’d move on.

104 gave no answer when he knocked, but the detective blocking the exit seemed more interesting, anyway.

“Hey, sir. What’s going on?” 

“Oh, hello. You just moved got here yesterday, yeah?” Dean must’ve worn his confusion on his face because the detective continued, “I already spoke to your father, seems neither of you had hit town yet when everything went down yesterday. The story checked out, that’s good. Just try to stay out of our way, kid. We’re investigating a serious crime here.”

“Was it murder?” Dean knew it was a long shot to ask, but he couldn’t help it. The officer only ignored him and turned to talk with his coworker. Alright, then. He could take a hint. Might as well finish the first floor, though. He walked past Adison’s door, towards the last two apartments on this floor. No one answered 102- shocking, really, Dean thought sarcastically to himself. 

“What do you want, ugly.” it wasn't a question, the man in 101 greeted him. He'd opened the door in his boxers, Dean imagined he thought himself important. The smell wafting out of the apartment left Dean speechless. Had he been letting eggs sit out forever? Ugh, how did this man get that smell to waft into the hallway? 

Dean kept his mouth shut to avoid throwing up. Apparently that wasn't the right option because the door got slammed in his face, the man on the other side grumbling about “abomination children”. Dude was a whack job then. Whatever. He’d already explored all the floors available to him. Time to go to the basement. He stuck the key card in and brought taken down to the last floor. 

  
  


End Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter include: Cursing, therapy session, mention of a dead body, mentions of violence, mentions of trying to take off someone's prosthetic by force, food mention, vague mentions of child abuse, police characters, fat shaming, Metatron bashing, OOC Metatron, murder mention.
> 
> Special announcement!  
> if you want to learn more about the characters or ask me any questions, I made a tumblr where you can- here: just copy and paste the link into your browser ^-^ https://ask-sfdean-and-co.tumblr.com/  
> I'll also be posting the chapters there. 
> 
> I'm going to have a few chapters written in advance, just as a cushion to myself- but things at work are picking up, so after chapter 4 things might get a little wonky.
> 
> [and for the people who want to comment but don't know what to say: The song stuck in my head this week is: So far Away by Avenged Sevenfold. What about you or what song have you recently heard that made you feel something?]


	3. Strange Neighbors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, warnings are at the end and if you have any questions  send them here 

He saw a washer and dryer set to his immediate left, so that’s why there wasn't a hook-up set up in his place. Both meant to for the entire building. Gross. That was going to be an interesting arrangement- He'd opened the washer, and yep, there were clothes in there. He wondered which asshole they belonged to before moving on. There was a locked biohazard cabinet that Dean felt not-at-all tempted to open, and shelves next to it.

He checked the lost and found first- he was a firm believer in 'finders keepers, losers weepers' He saw a bottle of laxitives- that could come in handy. He also saw a game in the box with the label peeled off. He didn't know what it was, but the game was pretty beat up. There didn't seem to be anything else in there but junk. He tried to play the game, curiosity getting the best of him, but it was all jacked up and static filled the screen. He wanted to hold on to it anyway, maybe he could fix it later.

He decided it was time to move on, going the opposite direction. Huh, they'd cheap out on laundry, but a fully stocked vending machine was golden? He wasn't hungry anyway, but it seemed odd to him. He kept walking and saw a door that must've been Jimmy's apartment. It being the only apartment down here. It was unlocked, so he walked in.

There was loud music coming from the furthest bedroom, but he wanted to look around first. On the wall was a picture of Jimmy and a kid, that must be Castiel and probably the source of the music- he looked upset in the photo, Dean wondered why. Next to it was another picture of some old people- it would make sense if they were the grandparents, but with some people you never knew and Dean had run into a lot of weirdos in this building.

They had an open kitchen as well, when Dean walked into it- an apparition with yellow eyes rushed him. He backed up, but it just breezed through him, leaving a fear that slithered from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. What the hell? He tried to shake it off, Winchester men didn't feel fear. He'd have to tell his dad later. After, he took care of it first.

He checked the room closest to the front door first- locked. It must be Jimmy's then. The next door was the bathroom, but there wasn't anything interesting inside. The room furthest from the door was the source of the music, with it being louder as Dean approached it. He tried knocking, but to no avail. The thumping music was too loud, so he opened the door. There was Castiel, dancing to his loud music, without a care in the world- he was half singing to the orange cat on his bed. He had a tan trench coat on, under which he wore a black T-shirt with the letters SF in a circle. His artfully ripped jeans were a pleasant brown. Dean found him very adorable.

Wait, Dean thought to himself, no. Damnit, Dean, you just got here, don't get a crush on your very male neighbor, no matter how cute he was- you don't want to move again 'cause if your Dad finds out, he won't hesitate with the belt.

"Um-" Eloquent. Good job, Dean.

It worked though, Castiel stopped mid-dance and turned off his music- angry. "Who are you and what are you doing in my room?" He demanded, brandishing a knife Dean must've missed before. Apparently father and son were opposites.

"I- uh," it was hard to concentrate with a knife pointed at him, "Your dad- uh Jimmy- sent me. I'm-I'm Dean, I just moved into 402. He- uh- thought we might get along. I can leave?" Dean was stumbling. He didn't know if he cared, though.

The other boy seemed to relax. "Oh," he cleared his throat, and starting tapping his fingers on his leg "Um, you don't have to leave. I'm Castiel. Sorry about the noise, uh, Saraph Falls is my favorite band, but my dad doesn't like it, so I blast it when he's not around. Uh, I like your mask. "

Dean relaxed, this dude seemed okay- when he wasn't pointing a knife at him, anyway. He scratched the back of his head, uncomfortable "It's a prosthetic." He didn't like pointing it out, but he couldn't risk anyone to try jokingly take it off.

"Oh. Fuck. Shit. Sorry.." the curse seemed alien in his mouth, but he seemed genuinely regretful. His hands were flapping rappidly in the air.

"It's all good, man. I'm used too much worse- so I'm glad you think it's cool."

"Do you mind if I ask you what happened?" Dean knew he wasn't trying to be malicious or anything, but he was uncomfortable being asked.

"I don't like to talk about it."

"Oh! Um, sorry again- I'll uh- subject change!" Cas shouted, awkward. Then winced "I'm Castiel Novak, I live here with my dad and Gizmo." he gestured at the cat.

"Gizmo?” He thought it was an interesting name, but not one Cas would give, ” I'm Dean Winchester. My friends call me Ugly. I just moved here from Kansas with my dad.”

“Ugly? That doesn’t sound like something a friend would call you.” hitting the mark on the first try. “My dad named him- he had told me I could give him a home if he got to name him.”

“I haven’t had very many decent friends. Once the assholes back in Kansas started calling me that, figured I’d own it so they couldn’t use it against me.”

“I admire that,” oh geez, Dean was glad, for once, that he had a prosthetic so that his blush wasn’t visible ,” You seem strange, Dean. I like it. We’re going to get along great.” He smiled widely and oh, it was adorable.

“That’s what your dad said,” Dean laughed awkwardly. “So, why do you live in the basement?”

“Well, Dad often says we’ve got to guard it from the rats, but I’m fairly sure we’re living rent free because he takes care of the entire building and Mr. Addison would feel bad for charging him for his services. I don’t mind, though, I can play my music loudly without having to worry about disturbing the neighbors.”

“Oh nice, it’s like your own little bat-cave then?” It honestly sounded like heaven. Without his dad around, Dean would often play his classic rock quietly.

“I don’t understand? It’s not a bat-cave, it’s my room?”

“Dude- chill out. It’s a reference. To batman. I like your shirt, though.”

The reference decidedly ignored, Cas carried on, “Thank you, it’s for that band I was listening to earlier- Seraph Falls. I have their first album, the second is being released in April.” Castiel got the music started again. It wasn’t what Dean normally listened to, but he danced along as well.

“You’ve lived here a while- you know anything about what happened in 403?’

He turned the radio up before speaking, “You shouldn’t say things like that out loud when the killer is still in the building, Dean.”

“Cas, dude, how in the world would you know something like that?’ Dean hadn’t thought before using the nickname, it just came out.

“I know because I saw it happen.” he said simply, as if he were commenting on the weather. “I like Cas, though.”

Dean tilted his head in suspicion, “Are you high right now?”

“No, Dean, we’re in the basement, remember? I witnessed a murder, and it terrified me.” Cas’s eyes swam momentarily with tears before he blinked and they had disappeared. “I had been helping Mrs. Mills with her toilet- I help around sometimes when my dad is busy or sick- and I heard him, Metatron from 204, come in yelling and screaming at her, ‘I know what you did, you bitch!’ She had tried to calm him, but he’d slit her throat before she could get any words out. I was very lucky he hadn’t seen me.” Cas took a deep breath, “I had told no one that- not even my dad.”

“Dude, shouldn’t you tell the cops?”

“I made an attempt, but they told to ‘quit talking out your ass, kid’ whatever that means. My ass doesn’t talk.” Cas pouted, Dean couldn’t help it- he laughed. “This isn’t funny Dean, the police don’t take me seriously.”

“I know, Cas. It’s just the way you said it, like you expect them to. Look, the bastards don’t listen to us because we’re you. I’ve got an app where I can listen to cop chatter, but it’s off the grid technically, I’ll show you how to download it- I haven’t listening to today because I was exploring, but you’ve given me an idea. You make a fake call, a bank robbery with hostages or something. Maybe you can distract them long enough for me to sneak into the scene- find some evidence so they have to believe you.”

“Dean, making false calls to the police is against the law,” Dean’s shoulder’s fell.

“You’re right, I-”

“I’m making a joke. I will do it. I hate that they don’t belive me. Can I ask the plan?” Oh, that little shit. Dean loved him already.

Dean looked around a moment, before grabbing the walkie-talkies Cas had on a side table. “Okay, side-note those are some wicked paintings you got.” Dean focused again, shaking the walkie talkies, “these work?”

“Thank you, I painted them myself, I've found that painting is my passion,” Dean could hear the pride in his voice, “I just new batteries in those, so they should.”

“Wicked, we can use them to communicate,” he tossed one to Cas, chuckling as he fumbled before holding it up in victory, “Don’t want them to trace the call and know what we were planning. I have to be upstairs when you make the call, so I’ll let you know when I’m up there. You let me know when you finish the call and I head over it’ll buy us some time- before all that, though, give me your phone so you can let me know when they’re headed back.”

Cas pulled his phone out, handing it over. It took Dean a moment to get what he needed, but eventually got the app onto the phone. He gently gave it back, seeing how many cracks it already had, and showed him how to work the app. He also made sure they both knew how to work the walkie-talkies.

“Dean would an armed robbery make it more believable? Most banks now have silent alarms, and the police would already know if there had been a robbery- especially if they had hostages. “

Cute and smart. “It would, actually. Stick to that and we’ll be golden.” Cas’s head tilted, and he opened his mouth, “never-mind. Remember to wait for me to tell you I’m upstairs.” Cas nodded and Dean headed out and up. He walked into his room- he didn't see his dad anywhere, so his dad had finished the house. He must've gone job hunting again. Dean shook his head and hit the call button.

“Okay, man. I’m ready when you are. Make sure you have that app open like I showed you. “

“Thank you, Dean. I’ll make the call now. Allow me a moment.” The talkie went quiet for several moments. “I sent them to the Gas-n-sip across town- I think it should be 20 minutes before they come back. Hurry and please be safe.”

Dean felt warm inside, but brushed it off, “Sure, Cas.”

He brought his lock pick kit just in case, but the officers must’ve already broke the hinges for 403. All Dean had to do was give a push to the door, and he was in. For a moment he felt sorry for Mrs. Mills. Her blood decorated the walls like the world’s most morbid abstract painting. Most of the furniture was in pieces, scattered around the livingroom. The chalk outline showed that her head had been mostly separated- just not all the way. How the fat man he’d met upstairs had the strength to do this, Dean would never know. Speaking of Metatron, Dean spotted three of the same figurines the man kept in his place that he was so proud of- there was a spot in the blood where it looked like someone had taken one. Dean looked behind the shelf they were on and under it, in case it got knocked down.

“Cas, I’m headed back down. I know how we can get him.”

“Good, Dean, the police are coming back now so you would have needed to get out of there, anyway.”

As Dean made his way back to the basement, he took a moment and thought about how he’d never done this kind of thing without his dad before. It gave him an electrified and jittery feeling. He wondered if it was because it he was doing it with Cas or because he was genuinely excited to see how this unfolded.

“It seems like both Metatron and Mrs. Mills collected the same little pony things,” He stated as he walked into the room.

“Right!” Castiel exclaimed- inappropriately excited, “Mrs. Jody was telling me while I worked that she’d somehow gotten a very rare one- She seemed excited about it. Maybe that’s what Metatron was after when he came in!”

“That dude gave me the creeps when I met him, so I wouldn’t put it past him to do something like that.” Dean shivered just thinking about it.

“He definitely needs to get caught,” Cas said with determination, “we can’t be living in the same building as a murderer.”

“Exactly, Cas. That’s why I gotta go see if Metatron has that toy. “

Cas didn’t argue though, “What, not going to ask why I have to do everything?”

“Well, Metatron doesn’t like me- he said I stole his snacks. Do I look like someone who needs to steal snacks?”

“Fair point. Alright, I’ve got ziplocks in my pocket, so I’ll use that to grab it- no prints, dude.”

“Have you done this before?” Cas’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Nah, dude. Just watch too much TV, y’know?”

He didn’t see Cas’s head tilt at that, but it didn’t matter. Dean had already left and headed back up to Metatron’s. When he got up there, there was another teen standing just past Metatron's door. He had short, brown hair which he kept under a cap. He was taller than Dean- but most people were. Dean didn't know how old this kid was exactly, but he already had scruff growing in. He leant against the wall, one leg up and he was drinking something that looked dark red- dark enough to be blood, but it probably wasn't, going by how viscous it was.

"Hey there, brother. You gonna stare at me all day or are you going to Say Somethin'?" He spoke with a southern twang.

"Oh, uh, hi. I'm Dean- you can call me Ugly if you want to." Dean suddenly felt awkward as the other teen caught him staring- he shifted in place.

"No need to feel bad, brother. I'm Benny. ," he smirked.

"Hey, Benny, do you think they haunt this building- people who’ve died here?" Dean didn't know why he asked. He already knew it was.

"Nah, Brother. I don't belive in that stuff. Never have." Benny seemed so sure that if Dean hadn't been experiencing 'that stuff' first hand for fifteen years, he would've believed him. "Though, to be honest, even if I saw solid proof I'd be denying it up til my dying breath."

"Alright-y then."

"Although...." he trailed off, "If you tell anyone I told you this I'll deny it, "He took a deep breath, and said his next sentence so quickly it might've been its own word, "Isawalittleboyuponthefifthflooronce."

"Huh?" Dean needed to get his hearing checked again, he couldn't catch what Benny said.

"I saw a little boy up on the fifth floor," Thankfully he slowed down enough for Dean to understand him, "I thought he was the kid of the homeless man that sometimes hangs out up there, but...while I was staring at him- he just- poof, gone. I''d locked the bathroom door up tight before leaving," Benny was shaking now, he didn't seem like the type to frighten easily so it must've really shaken him up. Dean cut this guy a break and ended the conversation.

"It's alright, man. I belive you. Take a few to calm down- I gotta talk to the dude in 403 for a moment, anyway. Thank you for telling me. I know you probably don't want to go back up there, so do you Wanna give me the key?" Benny looked grateful, handed Dean a skeleton key, and stepped back to the wall.

"Oh Dean, anyone asks? You found that on the floor, okay?" Dean nodded, shoved the key into his pocket and walked into Metatron's place.

When Dean entered again, he noticed that it’d been a couple hours and the large man still sat in his chair staring at the wall. Did the dude not own a TV? What did he do all day? Ugh, Dean regretted volunteering for this.

“You’re back already? Have you spoken to Mr. Addison?” Dean nodded,” Have you brought me tea?”

“Uh-” Dean really didn’t know how to answer that. 

“If that’s a no, go get me some.” Christ, Dean hated this guy.

Dean found himself in the hallway again. He waved at Benny and Jimmy, who was on the other side of the hallway, before heading to Addison’s door. Why did everyone in this building have to be so fucking weird? Well… he thought to himself, Jimmy and Cas weren’t too weird and Benny seemed alright. Dean took it as solace that he’d at least have them while he lived there. He smiled at the thought- though thankfully not visible to anyone. He didn’t have anybody but Bobby back in Lawrence- it'd be nice to have a few friends his age.

He’d gotten lost in thought long enough to take the elevator down to the first floor, and he’d been standing outside of Addison’s door a while. It surprised him no one notice or if they did; they said nothing. He cleared his throat and knocked on the door.

“Hey, dude, can I get a cup of Tea” Dean then tacked on, “Please and thank you?” It was definitely more of a question.

“Well, if you're sure” He handed Dean a paper cup filled to the brim with a steaming brownish green liquid. Dean tipped it slightly, but the 'tea' stuck to the cup. From it came a pungent smell that Dean couldn't quite place. He wouldn't be drinking any ,” I usually try to cut people off at three a day, so you won’t be getting too many of these.”

He would be the first to admit that he didn't know the first thing about tea, usually one for coffee or soda were his go to, but Dean could've sworn tea was liquid- he'd call Bobby later in the week and ask. Let the man have a couple days’ rest before Dean bugged him with something that could just be awful tea.

Dean knew that Metatron wouldn't let him even think about touching the figurines if Dean didn’t knock him out somehow, so Dean went up to his own place first, grabbing a couple laxitives from the restroom before leaving. While he was on his way back to Metatron's place, Dean put the laxitives into the drink and stirred it to make sure that they were completely dissolved- it was unusually difficult. Hopefully, the large man wouldn't notice over the smell.

When he reached the third floor again, he noticed that Benny was still leaning against the wall- he must've been able to smell the 'tea' from the elevator because he scrunched his nose and looked at Dean judgingly.

"Dude, it's not for me. I wouldn't drink this for a thousand bucks."

"That's a good thing. I ain't got any idea what Addison puts in it, but it typically knocks the grown-up out for a good, long while."

That would've been nice to know before Dean put laxitives in it, but it was too late now. He said his thanks and waved before he stepped into Metatron's apartment.

"Oooh! You brought tea this time!" He kicked his legs excitedly, like he was a child. This dude, Dean swore, if he wasn't guilty of this crime- Dean would kill him himself. So be it if he had to go to jail or face Bobby- it’d be better than this "Mr. Addison already cut me off. Stupid 3 cups rule. I swear, this stuff is so good- I could like a million gallons of it." He wiped the drool off his chin with the back of his hand and Dean almost threw up.

Getting it out of the way Dean handed him the cup, but as soon as he did he downed the entire thing, his stomach started growling and groaned, until he suddenly bolted up, his hands on his bottom and booked it to the bathroom, where Dean could hear all sorts of sounds he didn't want to think about. He silently wondered how many people he could do that to, but shook his head. He shouldn't drug people unless it was a last resort, and they deserved it- most of the people here didn't deserve it.

Dean browsed the toys as quickly as he could while being thorough- and despite himself, he felt a spark of amazement that someone that big and lazy could have this big of a collection. It took a few seconds, but Dean eventually found a pony with blood on its feet- really, that was just sloppy- both on the police and on Metatron. He quickly called Cas on the walkie.

"Hey, Cas- I got they toy. I'm heading back down to you now. "

"Perfect, Dean. They will have to belive me now!" his excitement was contagious and Dean couldn't help but to bounce in place as he waited for the elevator to get him back to the basement.

He walked in and repeated himself, "I've got the toy!"

Cas laughed and hugged Dean before quickly stepping back, "I know! I'm so proud of you, Dean!"

That was the first time Dean had heard those words from someone other than Bobby- who Dean assumed held a bias since he was the kid of one of his best friends- but to hear it from someone who genuinely meant it, well Dean would do whatever he could to hear it again.

"Should we take it together?" Dean asked, but regretted it when Cas's shoulders fell.

"I-um- don't think that's a good idea. Bad history between the police and I- I'll tell you about it some other day, okay?" The silent plead in his eyes wasn't something Dean could say no to. He ignored the squeezing in his heart.

“Cas, do you believe in ghosts?” Dean didn’t know why he had to know right that second, but he did.

“Did Benny tell you to ask that? Dean, you shouldn’t listen to everything people say, it’s dangerous.”

“Cas, relax, I’m just curious, man. That’s all.”

Cas gave a quick apology before Dean headed back upstairs. He went up to the fifth floor to investigate, grateful he'd already gotten the key from Benny.

He walked in and heard crying. "H-Hello? Anyone in here?" He hoped that the spirit wasn't a vengeful one- but he felt stupid talking to an empty room. "It's okay if you're scared, I would be too. But I'm here to be a friend- I'm nice, I promise."

Suddenly, a young boy materialized in a way Dean imagined was painful. First bones appeared, then his muscles, and then Dean could finally see his face. It couldn't have been more than a couple seconds, but to Dean it felt like an eternity. The kid couldn't be over five, but he squashed his horror at the situation.

"You are?" the little boy asked, hope flooding his voice.

"Yeah, bud. Of course. My name is Dean, but you can call me Dee. Okay?"

The little boy laughed, "That's funny. You're not scared of me, Dee?"

"No, of course not. Do I have a reason to be?" Dean didn’t think he was scary, but he’d been wrong plenty of times before.

"No," he smiled brightly, he must have been glad for the company, "some others maybe, but not me." Dean was about to ask another question, but he vanished from sight, like someone yanked him back.

He left the bathroom and wondered around the fifth floor aimlessly for a moment. The ghost of the little boy had a large, dark hand around his throat and a black eye. There were scratches on his arms, like he'd been fighting, and Dean hated it. He hated the boy’s parents for letting him die, and he hated them for killing him. He kicked the wall next to him- hard. How dare they? Whoever did that to that sweet little boy was going to pay- and Dean would ensure it was painful- they deserved it.

Dean decided it was time to go turn the toy in before he lost himself. He didn't mind taking the credit, but Cas had worked hard for this too. He didn't bother with the cop on the fourth floor. Bastard was too self-righteous to listen to him. Dean really, really didn't enjoy interacting with the police, but he knew the detective on the main floor would take the evidence without question. And Dean was right- he only asked where Dean had gotten it- Dean just replied by asking if he wanted to explain to his superiors why he’d missed a vital piece of evidence and had to have a teen find it instead. And simply walking away. Dean called Cas up- watching together as their hard work finally paid off and they got to watch the police cart “Marv” off. 

He and Cas walked past the detective outside. He simply nodded at them- thanking them for their help without saying it aloud. They could hear Metatron screaming from the car. 

“I’m innocent! I swear, it was a setup! Ask Dean, we’re friends, right Dean?!? Come on, I didn’t do it!” His spittle flew against the window in front of him. Cas stopped in front of the cop car, flipping the man off- Dean thought it was hilarious. He’d swear later, about 14 years in the future, that he didn’t know what compelled him to look in the back of the unattended ambulance. He didn’t know why he had to look back there- but he did. Dean could see Jody Miller’s body in the back. During her fight with Marv she’d hit her head and splitting it open, displaying her brains, and he’d cut her throat so jaggedly that Dean didn’t know what was skin and what was insides. For the second time in his life, Dean felt scared of a dead body.

  
  


14 Years Later, Back at the Rehab clinic.

Dean had stopped after that, the words unable to come. He looked hopelessly at Garth, his prosthetic still on the table- his eyes begged, “what should I do now?”

“Dean. You’ve done really well today,” Dean relaxed at the praise- this was the major reason he liked Garth better. “ That must’ve been difficult for you to go through, and I know that was hard for you to talk about- especially without your face on.”

“Yeah, doc,” he reached for his prosthetic and put it back on, making the straps slightly tighter than normal- he needed the security right now. 

“There are some people out today that say Marv was set-up, that he was innocent. How do you feel about that?’

“Garth, I’m nearly 100 percent sure he did it. The evidence was there.”

“I believe you, Dean. Can you tell me anymore about Castiel? He sounds like he was a good friend.”

“Doc, please- we’ve already mentioned that Cas is dead. He’s an angel now.” The only thing Dean hated more than being forced to take off his prothetic was talking about Cas. It hurt too much, even after all this time. 

Garth looked at the clock behind Dean again, “They’ll be coming in to get you for rec time, Dean-o. Why don’t you take a few quiet moments to reflect on what you’ve told me today, and since you’ve been good as sharing- I’ll put in a kind word with the heads so you can see Sam soon? How’s that?”

“Sounds good, Doc.” Dean didn’t think about the session though. He stared blankly at the wall until two orderlies dressed in pink came to get him. They didn’t grab him, didn’t need to. They learned here early on that Dean didn’t fight unless he felt he had to.

“Oh, and Dean?” Garth called as Dean stood up.

“Yeah, Doc?”

“I don’t think you’re a bad person. You never had been, just put in real bad situations.”

"You may be the only one to believe that, Garth."

End chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings:
> 
> ghost appearance, slight OOC Castiel, bullying mention, insensitive questions, murder mention, murder witness, not trusting the police, police characters, Discussion of illegal activities, false police report, breaking and entering, breaking into a crime scene, description of aftermath from violence, description of a crime scene, non-consensual drugging, drugging, Metatron bashing, we hate Metatron here, child death, child abuse, graphic description of a dead child, homicide, descriptions of injuries from child abuse, fatphobia, lying to the police, keeping information from the police, graphic description of a dead body, therapy  
> .  
> .  
> .  
> Chapter 4 will be up at 11:59PM on the 22nd and it will be little shorter, but hopefully this chapter will make up for it. And for those that don't know what to comment: What was the last thing you ate? Did you enjoy it?


	4. Twisted Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings and ask blog link are at the end. I know it's a little short (and late) but hopefully next chapter makes up for it.

Dean was playing in the field by his house. The worries that five-year-olds carried now barley crossed his mind as he ran, pretending to be an air-plane. He decided he needed a rest, so he ran towards his mother who sat, relaxed, on a pink blanket. He would always wrinkle his nose at it. Pink was a color for girls- he'd say. His mom would laugh, hold his little face in her hands, and kissed every freckle she could see. He didn't really mean it- he actually liked the pink she surrounded herself with, he just wanted to hear her laugh- it was the best sound he'd heard in his 5 short years of life.

"Pink is for everyone, baby. Your daddy has been filling your head with all kinds of bad ideas." She'd say, giggling at Dean's attempt of a serious face. "Now, come eat your lunch, baby, and when you're done, you can play some more."

He crawled into her lap, asking for cuddles without speaking. Peanut butter sandwich in hand. He ate quickly and spoke with his mouth full. "Mama, can you tell me that story about the angel again?"

"Really, baby, again?" She laughed at him again, when he looked up at her with his big, green eyes, apparently affronted. "Alright, alright-you don't gotta look at me like that." 

He turned back around, going back to his sandwich. She placed a daisy chain on his head before starting her story, “ long ago, long after God created the world- he brought one of his sons to him,” Dean leaned closer to her, listening closely although he’d already heard the story a million times, “he told him, son- your brothers have come and claimed their days, the people they’ll protect, and a few of them have chosen weapons. But you, my son, have not made that choice. Cassius, why did you put it off for so long? Dean, baby, do you remember how Cas replied?”

Dean closed his eyes, speaking solely from memory. “He told his father, he wanted to make sure that he was the patron of the forgotten.”

“That’s right. He waited so long that even God thought he’d forgotten. But Cassius he stared God in the eye and exclaimed so all of heaven and all the earth heard ‘I am the Angel of tears, angel of temperance, I will preside over the death of kings and I will be parton to those overlooked, or those in weakened. Orphan children and the enslaved, the poor and downtrodden, the oppressed and the unjustly persecuted!’ Now, Dean- remember God is all-knowing, so he smiled. Proud of his son and allowed it.”

“Mama, do you think it’s possible to love an angel?”

“I don’t know, baby.”

He stood, his fists on his hips, “One day, I’m gonna marry someone like Cas. Someone who cares. And if I don’t, I’ll never ever get married”

Mary hugged Dean tightly and let him go back to playing while they waited for his dad and Sammy to show up. She called out to him when he got too close to the forest, but he didn’t hear her and kept on running, butterflies battering in his tummy.

Somewhere along the way he blacked out, Dean could barely remember what happened- his mind fuzzy, but instead of petting the puppy with his mommy, Dean was now wandering the city streets with a bleeding face- and it hurt so much. He didn't know exactly where he was, or why he was here. He didn't know where his mom had gone. Through his clouded vision, he could see destroyed buildings and an airplane on fire. Like the airplane had crashed through and left disaster in its wake. Dean didn't know if it was because he lost too much blood, or what- but he could've sworn that he could feel the heat from the inferno from where he stood, several miles away. 

As he walked, he saw bones scattered around on the ground. It looked like they were both animal and human, but he also spotted an ambulance- and none of it mattered. He ran towards it, although blood covered the back. Dean knew that ambulances help people, so he crawled into the open doors- hoping to find an adult that could help him and his face filled with agony. 

Instead, he found himself older, about 15, with his prosthetic strapped tightly to his head. He stood face to face with a very alive Jody Mills in her apartment. 

"Thank you so much for coming up. Normally, I'd have taken care of it myself- but Mr. Mills' fingers have turned into potatoes. And it's too dangerous out on the street." Dean supposed that was logical. 

Dean didn't mind working on it for her- it what he was here for, "It's no problem, ma'am. I don't mind."

"Thanks, Castiel. The bathroom is just over there. You let me know if you need anything," Dean nodded and walked to where she'd pointed. 

The bathroom in question was just like the one in Dean's own apartment- but longer, like it went on forever. Maybe it did, but Dean didn't care. He was here to fix the toilet. Someone broke the lid, and it was overflowing- spilling dirty, brown-ish green water on the floor. It honestly reminded Dean of Addison tea, except more of a liquid. Gross. There was a plunger in the middle of the floor. He didn't trust it- but he picked it up, anyway. He needed it to get the toilet unclogged.

If Dean were being honest, he really didn't know how to feel when the toilet suddenly grew 10 feet and sharp teeth and swallowed him whole. Really, it gave quite a shock. He now stood in the sewer, on an elevated, thankfully dry, platform. The liquid flowing next to him was a sickly, glowing green. He looked into it and saw something floating inside. Was... was that an eyeball ? He asked himself, horrified. He decided ignoring the things floating in the toxic waste was going to be for the best for now. He swore he heard a baby crying somewhere. 

He walked forward, feeling the need to get out. It took a moment, but he eventually came across a gap he needed to get across- the only issue with it seemed there was an abomination of a pony in his way. Dried and saggy purple skin stretched painfully over sharp bones- knobby knees stuck out at horrifying angles and the ribs were clear as day from where Dean stood a couple feet away. What Dean could only assume were lips, barely existed anymore- they were just a thin line of chapped skin and dried blood- Dean could see yellowing teeth. Its green eyes were bloodshot- in the worst way. The wings on its back were gigantic, but balding. Only a few thin feathers held on, but they looked horribly mangled. It looked like once it had a horn, but now in the middle of its forehead was a large hole where it must've fallen off- dried blood decorated the edges of it. 

"Please...." it begged in a raspy whisper, "please... help... me..."

"What's wrong?" Dean knew this wasn't normal, but he wanted to help- to ease the suffering.

"The... water...it...stopped...I'm...so...thirsty." 

"I know how to fix that, I'll get you took care of. Okay, bud?" Dean reassured the pony. 

"Please..." it pleaded and fell silent, breathing heavily. 

He couldn't get through with the pony in the way, Dean turned around to look for an exit or something. A dark wall blocked off the other end, but he spotted a ladder nearby. He didn't really see another way out, so he climbed up into a narrow hallway- there was another ladder that went up and right next to it, there was a large switch with lights above it.

Dean flipped it, and the lights came on. Walls on both sides blocked the hallway off, so he climbed up again. And found himself in the same situation- ladder and another switch. He flipped it and carried on. The last hallway didn't go up, so he just flipped the switch and celebrated when he heard rushing water. 

He continued down the way he came, noticing the water was running clear now. He followed the path he came from, wondering how the pony was doing- but his arrival back at the gap answered that. Well, Dean shouldn't really call it a gap anymore- the pony had more than tripled in size, cramming itself into the space. 

Dean didn't know if it was alive, but he doubted it. Its nose and mouth were in the water and bubbles weren't coming. It didn't speak, just kind of stared off in space.He looked closely and noticed maggots crawling between the stomach rolls it now had with ease, and flies buzzed loudly around its head. The wings had completely fallen off and were now just the skeletal structure. He was glad it got the water it so desperately needed, but it hurt to see it like this. It reminded Dean of someone he knew, but he couldn't quite put his finger on who. 

He had to carry on though, no matter how much it hurt, he had a toilet to fix- so he stepped on, using it as a bridge. Each step sunk into the flesh, and when Dean lifted his foot to take the next one- he would see skin and blood stuck to his tennis shoes. It turned his stomach. He was grateful when his feet landed back onto the brick. He breathed a moment, trying to keep himself from throwing up before continuing again. The journey harder now, he'd accidently killed something by just trying to help. 

He saw nothing for a bit, and was losing hope before he saw an archway, through which he could see a dark bathroom- the toilet intact. He stepped through hesitantly. He was still a bit frightened of toilets, if he were being honest. While this one seemed normal, he gave it a wide berth- just in case.He heard screaming and a fight, but didn’t open the door until all sound stopped. He stepped back into Mrs. Mills' apartment.

He supposed it might’ve surprised him to see Judy on the floor, dead and the place coated in blood from ceiling to floor. He wasn't though. The broken furniture didn't shock him, nor did the pieces of brain he found ground into the carpet. He was, however, surprised to see bloody footsteps leading to the front door.

He took a breath, said a silent apology to Mrs. Mills- stopping to close her eyes with his fingers, and walked the same path as the footsteps. Opening the door revealed more- getting lighter as they went down the narrow hall. He followed them until they disappeared, but darkness began. 

He hesitated a moment- and then stepped into the darkness. He didn't know where he was going, but he walked forward with purpose. In the chair sat Metatron again. But he'd lost weight. The large man Dean had seen last time was all saggy skin and sharp bones. 

"Dean," he said in a flat voice, "Dean, come here, I have something to show you."

Dean didn't want to- in fact, he wanted to turn and run the other way, but he did. He walked closer- and from there he could see a thin zipper running from the top of Metatron's hairline and into his shirt. 

"I thought we were friends, Dean. But you did it. You touched my ponies." As he spoke, he dragged down the zipper holding his skin together. Suddenly, though, a skeleton with bright yellow eyes sat where he had been. 

"COME ON DEAN! WHY SO SCARED NOW!" it screamed at him, rushing him, ” Isn’t this what you wanted?!”

Dean shot up out of bed, panting hard and reaching for his prosthetic. He felt too bare, too wild without it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> religion as written by an atheist, brief description of severe injury, toilet mess, exploration of sewers, body horror of an animal, body horror, severe dehydration, sewers, graphic description of a dead animal, gore, blood, graphic description of a dead body, graphic description of a crime scene
> 
> https://ask-sfdean-and-co.tumblr.com/


	5. Dark Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note and disclaimer: 
> 
> I headcanon Cas as autistic because I am autistic. The way my autism presents is the way I wrote Cas’s autism. Please, do not complain about it in the comments. It’s much more apparent in this chapter because he’s in it more. 
> 
> My upload times will no longer be at midnight, as it's been messing up my sleep schedule, but I will upload on Friday nights. Also, there will be no upload next week, but there will be one the week after. Work got super crazy, and I fell behind, so I’m giving myself time to catch up. Thank you so much for reading and for your patience. 
> 
> As always warnings for this chapter are in the end notes.

The two boys sat in Castiel's room across from each other, Dean on the floor, slouched in one of Cas's tacky bean bag chairs- with his hands behind his head. Castiel- minus his trademark trench-coat- lay on his bed with Gizmo resting on his stomach, listening intently as Dean recited his most recent dream.

"You're still having nightmares?" he asked, "it's been months, Dean."

"I know, I haven't had them this bad since mom died. I'm pretty sure that it's connected to the building, there's something off about this whole place,", Cas rolled his eyes- a habit he'd picked up from Dean, "C'mon man, you can't tell me you don't get the same vibe."

"I can and I am. I don't know why you keep insisting on it- I've lived most of my life, Dean. If there was someone- or something- here, I would know by now. But..." he trailed off, pushing himself up and gently placing Gizmo on the floor. The cat immediately tore out of the room, seeking Jimmy's comfort.

"What's up, Cas?"

Without thinking, or maybe by instinct, he replied, "The sky, Dean." He blinked and shook his head before speaking again. "We've known each other a while now, I want to show you something. Follow me."

He took them to the door at the back of his room, handing Dean a hoodie and shrugging on his coat. "Is this where you take me to a storage shed out back, tell me you're a serial killer who can't read people worth a shit, then kill me horribly so you can feast on my flesh for the winter?"

Cas, at that point, had opened the door that led out. Although Dean was in a hoodie, he could already feel the cold seeping in. He looked back at Dean like he was some sort of puzzle to figure out and stepped out into the snow.

"Dean, if I were a serial killer with autism and a soft spot for small things, why in the world would I kill you in a shed when I already live in the basement?" They'd had conversations like this before.

"Does that mean you're gonna kill me in the basement?" Dean couldn't see Cas roll his eyes, but he knew he did, "look, man- it seems to me like the chances of cops finding evidence, even as stupid as they are here, would be lower in a shed."

"I wouldn't kill you, Dean." Was all Cas said. They walked in silence until Cas suddenly stopped with no warning, Dean didn't notice and bumped into him- sending himself backwards into the snow. "Sorry, Dean. We're here though." He offered a hand to Dean and helped pull him up onto his feet.

Dean brushed himself off then, looked up. He saw a sturdy tree-house set up securely in a thick, tall tree. "This looks wicked, dude. Why didn't you tell me about it sooner?"

"It's where I go when I need to be alone, Dean. Only my dad knows about it."

"Oh, so it's your fortress of solitude." they'd just watched a bunch of Superman movies last week, so Dean knew he'd get the reference.

"Exactly."Cas smiled at Dean before he started climbing up, motioning for him to follow.

"Dude, this is wicked- I always wanted a tree-house when I was little." Dean exclaimed, looking around.

“Dean, you’re still little,” Castiel stated, earning him a glare from Dean for the dig against his height. Cas sighed heavily before sitting down on the simple wood floor. “My mother built this place for me before she disappeared.” He didn’t wait for Dean to ask what he meant, just carried on, “On Sunday she’d taken us to church, a big, happy family. Monday morning, when I went to go wake my dad up, she’d already left. I- She didn’t even leave a note, Dean. She left all of her belongings. I took them up here, just in case. My dad didn't want them in the house.”

Dean didn’t know what to say- Cas usually avoided anything to do with his mother, but to learn that she just up and left her kid.. 

“There were never any signs she would have left, either.” Cas spoke, his voice shaking ,” my parents loved each other, they loved me. She didn’t just abandon us- I refuse to believe that.”

“I believe you buddy,” he patted his friend’s back, “what do you think happened?”

Cas sighed, running a hand though his hair, "I know that you and Benny swear there are ghosts in the building, and I'm not suddenly changing my mind but.... it has to be something else. I... I have told nobody - I, Dean, I'm not proud of what I did..."

"Go on, buddy, I won't judge. We've all done things we're not proud of, Cas."

"The day before she... disappeared. My dad had gotten firecrackers, he told me to wait- not to play with them on my own. But, Dean, I was so curious. I wanted to see what they looked like- how they worked. I couldn't help it. I set one off- one. It ended up in Lucifer's open window- I don't know how. It killed his dog. "

"Oh, dude. That blows."

"I went to check on him, and he was screaming at me- I didn't understand most of it. Lucifer isn't great, but I felt so bad about the dog. As I headed back, that's when I saw him, the yellow-eyed demon. He reached out and touched my forehead. I had a shiver of cold run down my entire body- I was so scared, Dean. I thought I'd gone out of my mind, he’d disappeared as quicky as he'd come, ," Cas swallowed, "I'm cursed, Dean, after what I'd- everything was.. bad after. Mom disappeared, my dad got depressed, and I actually had to spend time in the juvenile justice system for killing Rover." Cas started flapping his hands up and down, unable to keep static anymore, "My bike even got stolen, Dean. I couldn't afford a new one. Dean, it's been one thing after the next."

"You think the curse took your mom away?"

"There's no other explanation, It's all my fault, Dean. Mom, Rover, Mrs. Mills. All of it. If you were smart, you'd stay away."

"I never said I was smart, Cas, and I'd rather have you, cursed or not. Besides, dude, even if there is a curse on you- you can't blame yourself for every bad thing that happens. Don't be a credit hog." Dean joked, not getting a response he moved on, "What did the demon look like? Besides the yellow eyes?"

"It was...like nothing I'd ever seen before. It was... a black mist. The eyes were the worst part." he shivered.

"Dude, I've seen your demon in the building!" Dean exclaimed "I saw it in the building, just like you described. I'm pretty sure it's linked to the other ghosts. I bet we could break your curse if we can find out some info on the other ghosts- how they died and stuff. Maybe there's stuff in the building that can help sort this out."

Castiel thought for a moment before speaking up, "It couldn't hurt."

Dean walked around in the treehouse first, trying to find something that could help with the ghosts- but while he did that, his game boy suddenly light up a bright, sickly, glowing green. He looked down at the picture he was in front of- there was a beautiful woman with long blonde hair, Jimmy and Cas. They all looked happy. "Huh, that's weird."

Dean didn't mean to say it out loud, but Cas still replied, "What's weird?"

"I found this old GameBoy cartridge in the lost and found when we first met. I think it works like an EMF. It was this that made it act up."

Cas cross the room and took the picture from Dean's hands. He stroked the woman's face with a finger before handing it back so Dean could set it down. "That was the last picture we took together. She always had such a big smile."

Cas moved to the chest near where Dean had found the picture and motioned him to follow. They opened it together and saw an old, worn leather jacket. Cas picked it up and hugged it close to his chest, breathing in the smell.

“My dad gave this to my mom when they were dating, she loved it dearly. Just after she disappeared, I would sneak up here when my father fell asleep and wrap myself in her scent.” He put his hand in the pocket and pulled out two concert tickets, and he spoke with a smile, “She's where I learned to love the music that I do.”

Chest were also a couple of old baby name books, bridal magazines, and even a couple of outdoor magazines. She'd apparently owned a few rubix cubes. Finally, there was a silver hexagonal box, Dean tried to open it- no luck. Sealed shut. Dean wouldn't have normally, wouldn't have thought twice about it, but his Gameboy was acting up again.

"Oh hey, Cas what's in the box?" He held it up so his friend could see.

"I have no idea, it's some sort of puzzle box, but I've never been able to figure it out."

"Huh," there was a piece missing, but Dean didn't point it out, "You mind if I hold on to this for a while, I'll give it back."

He quickly took a picture, and sent it to Bobby. The older man would know, and if he didn't, he'd look into it.

Cas thought for a moment before deciding, "Yeah, that would be alright. Just let me know if you get it open. It's getting pretty cold. We should head back in, Dean."

Dean had nearly forgotten that it was snowing out, but at Cas's reminder, the cold slammed into him at full force, making him shiver "Yeah, let's go Cas."

They climbed down, Cas first- then Dean, and made their way back to the apartments in quiet. This was the most Castiel had opened up since they met, and Dean didn't know what to say.

It was when they re-entered Castiel's room, is when he finally spoke, "Dean, I-I can't help you with this."

"Why not?" he demanded, "this has to do with you too, Cas!"

"That's exactly why I can't, Dean!" Cas very rarely raised his voice, it almost always startled Dean when he did, "Talking about it in the treehouse brought back a lot of memories to the surface, and I need time to sort through them. I know you are eager to investigate- which I why I won't stop you, but I can't. If you need me, I'll either be here my dad is sick, I have to stay and help him if he needs it."

Dean wanted to fight it, but couldn't deny either Cas or Jimmy. "Alright Cas. I'll come to you if I find anything or have questions I can't answer, alright?"

Castiel nodded and turned his music on low. He picked up the stim tool Dean had got him for his birthday and sat down with it, calming himself. Dean nodded at him, for which he received a wave in return, and silently left to start his investigation. He figured he could ask Ben if he knew anything about the demon. Dean didn’t know if he would show, though..

He ultimately figured that it wouldn't hurt to try, but he wanted to check in on Jimmy first. He knocked on the man's bedroom door and entered when he received a weak "come in".

"Hey, Jimmy, you feeling any better?"

"Hey, Dean." He didn't bother sitting up, Dean was like a second son. "I think today is actually the worst of it. Once I'm through it, I'll be alright. It's good though, I'm ready to get back to work- there's so much to get done."

"Take it easy for now, alright, dude? I don't want you to overwork yourself. Catch yourself some Zs, man."

"Dean Winchester, it is not your job to worry about me. I've been resting plenty. And Cas has been super helpful. I'll be alright." Jimmy admonished him.

"Oh, speaking of Cas," Dean usually tried to keep Jimmy updated, "He's gone a bit nonverbal, but he's not quite overstimulated yet. He's stimming in his room now, in case you were wondering. He should be good in like 20 if you give him some quiet."

"Thank you, Dean. I'll text him if I need anything."

Dean nodded, "I'll let you get back to resting now. Get well soon, okay, Jimmy?"

Jimmy gave him a mock salute, "Will do, Dean." and promptly fell asleep.

Dean snorted, 'resting plenty' for sure. He quietly left, gently closing the door behind him and making his way out of the basement. But not before shooting a text to Cas that read:

Ur dad sleep. zzz. Let him b, slpy mn.

to which Cas replied:

Thank you, Dean. I'll bee in my room.

Dean snorted, shoved his phone in his pocket, and walked towards the elevator to get to the fifth floor. He passed Benny hanging out by the empty vending machine.

"Hey, brother." Benny greeted him.

"Hey, Benny. What's the word, man?"

"I'm waiting on a resupply, man." Dean soon found out that what Benny had been drinking that first day was actually just code red with some red Kool-aid mixed in. Made it look like blood without the taste. Benny had some sort of obsession with looking like a vampire. Dean didn't understand it, but to each their own.

He nodded and moved on. Since they'd moved in, someone had almost always left their clothes in the shared washer and dryer- to where his dad started taking their clothes to the laundromat nearby on his days off. Dean ended up having to fold and put everything away- the horrors he'd seen in his dad's underwear drawer would scar him for life, well he blamed the person who kept leaving their clothes.

Dean took the elevator up to the fifth floor. It was still just as bad as it had been when he'd first explored it. Pieces of the wall still scattered everywhere and parts of the floor still missing or pulled up. He walked straight to 504. Before remembering that he should probably invite Cas to come meet Ben. Maybe then the other teen would believe that Dean when he spoke about ghosts. He texted Cas.

U want com up 2 504? ghostie time

Yeah, I'll bee right up.

It only took Cas a couple minutes to come up, "What was it you wanted to show me?" he asked. He felt calm enough to talk now, but he'd brought the fidget tool with him.

"C'mon, he's in the bathroom, dude."

"Dean, who in the world are you talking about?" Dean ignored the question.

"Just come on, man." He led them both into the bathroom.

They entered together, Cas wrinkling his nose. The rooms were disgusting. "Whatever, dude." Dean said he didn't care as long as Ben showed. "Ben, you there, buddy? I want you to meet my friend Cas. He's nice too. Just like me."

Cas gave him a weird look for speaking to an empty room. "I don't think there's anything here, Dean."

"Dude, he might be afraid- he's just a kid. I haven't seen him in a while though, I hope he's alright." Dean had a huge soft spot for the kid.

"Dean, how often do you come up to this moldy bathroom to talk to a dead person?"

Dean shook his head, “I've been able to talk to him a few times, but like I said, he hasn't shown.” Castiel stayed silent. “I'm not crazy, Cas.” He hissed, “I'll prove it to you.”

"Dean, I never said you were crazy. As much as this goes against everything I belive, I do belive in you. You're my best friend and if this helps figure out what happened to my mom- I'll agree to it."

Dean let out a defeated sigh, "I really felt like we might see him today."

Cas clapped his hands together once, then flapped them like he'd remembered something, "Oh! You should talk to Charlie. She's the smartest person I've ever met, and she's open minded. I bet she could help you come up with something that could help you."

"I didn't think Charlie would be into that kind of stuff. She always seemed so... Normal?" He winced, that wasn't quite the right word, " I'll go talk to her, see how she can help."

They parted ways, Cas going to back to check on his Dad and Dean to stop by 102. He'd found himself compelled to check on the old lady there since she first answered the door a couple days after he'd moved in. He couldn't remember why he did. But he figured he'd visit her before he went to go see Charlie. 

"Well, hey there Deanna. Well, aren't you a pretty girl?" He doesn't why Ms. Rowena always greeted him that way- she thought he was a girl. No matter how much he'd try to correct her, she wouldn't stop- so he gave up. She had little time here, anyway.

She was a thin old woman, with ginger hair- though it she always tied it into a bun, high on her head. There were no fly-away hairs- none that stuck out. Dean wouldn't say that it was perfect, just that she kept her hair nice. She looked at him through an enormous pair of wire-framed glasses. They were too big for her face, but it didn't seem to matter to her. Rowena always sat in the same rocking chair- no matter what time of day Dean visited. She spoke with a faint Scottish accent Dean it found oddly charming. 

"Hey, Miss. Rowena. How are you feeling today? Is it okay if I ask you a few questions?" Dean asked.

"Oh, I'm alright Deanna. Well, as alright as someone my age can be." She rocked her chair gently as she answered, "Just remember, Deanna, my girl, you won't have your good looks when you're older. It'll slip from your grasp before you're ready. Oh, how it goes so quickly."

Dean was fairly sure she didn't know that his face was a prosthetic, but she continued before he "What was I saying? Oh yes, ask away my dear. I may not have much left, but I do have time. Yes, time is all I have and even that'll slip away from me soon. Or maybe I've never really had a grasp on it at all... Such a strange concept, isn't it? Time...Sitting here alone, the mind can drift a great deal. Wondering what's beyond the veil... Get too deep into these thoughts and the world makes less and less sense. Yes, time is an enigma. But listen to me rambling on. I'm sorry, Deanna dear. You had something you wanted to ask?"

"Uh, yeah, I did. How long have you lived here?" Dean had gotten used to tuning out her ramblings, but it took him a minute to remember what he was going to ask.

"Long indeed. Though it's hard to say exactly. My old mind can barely hold on to the memories of yesterday anymore, let alone the distant past. I'm afraid my days are nearing an end. Soon I will turn to dust and my consciousness will merge with the great and mysterious nothing. A void that's impossible for our little brains to wrap their heads around and trust me when I say I've tried. Yes, a powerful, dreaded, empty nothingness... Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie, I've been rambling on again. What was your question?" Dean could barely remember after that answer.

Oh right, "That's alright Miss Rowena. I was asking how long you've lived here?" he asked again.

"You know, I do remember when the Addisons moved here, form overseas, to construct this building. Actually, this land belonged to my family first, but I decided to sell to the Addisons since I was the only one remaining. I thought the company would be nice to have again. Someone to share the anguish of life with. I was young and desperate for a new beginning... What a foolish girl I was..." she trailed off.

"You regret selling the land?" He tilted his head. That was interesting.

"A life as old as mine is filled with regret, my dear. Though it all eventually becomes meaningless." Her shortest answer yet.

"Whatever happened to the rest of the Addisons? Do they live in town?" He asked.

"They're gone." her voice wavered.

"Gone?"

"Time takes us all, Deanna. Poor little Zacharia is the last of his family. Oh, I suppose he's not so little now, but that's how I see him. As that young man with a twinkle in his eye and a head filled with dreams...Now look at him. He never that godforsaken room." That reminded him.

"Why does he stay in that room?" He'd been curious about it since he'd moved in.

"He went a little kooky after his family passed, if you ask me. The boy was so wound, he was afraid of his own shadow. Zacharia worshiped his father and gave up on his dreams in order to run his father’s apartments. Slowly bu surely he began confining himself in the safety of his room until one day he stopped coming out altogether. Yes, despite the cheerful persona he puts forth from behind that door of his, Zacharia Addison is about as timid as they come. Damaged by a life of misfortunes... but aren't we all my dear? Yes, I suppose we are." Dean had one last question. He figured it was a longshot, but she had been here the longest of anyone.

"Have you seen any ghosts in the building?"

"Ghosts? Why in heavens would you worry about such a thing as Ghosts? Deanna, you're such a sweet young girl, you remind me of myself from another time. Do old Rowena a favor, enjoy your life while it lasts. Don't be consumed by the allure of death and its many secrets. I know, yes, yes, it's quite tempting and very easy to get pulled in. Why you could say we are all ghosts, really, just waiting to pass from this place to the next. Such a thin membrane that separates existence and nonexistence. With our frail bones and delicate casings, any small misstep could send us reeling into eternity in the blink of an eye." She promptly fell asleep and ended the conversation.

Dean left, closing her door gently behind him, and headed to Mr. Addisons. He knocked on the man's door. 

"Hello, young Dean. It's nice to see you! I hope you're doing well." Cheerful as always, Dean wondered if it was fake.

"I'm alright. What's with the new cameras?" take something easy and ease into the harder stuff.

"Didn't you and your father get the invite to our monthly meetings? Everything gets discussed there." Well, Dean felt stupid now. 

"I guess we forgot about it." Truth was, his dad had worked that day, and Dean had gotten sucked into a game.

"That's alright, although I do suggest joining in the future if you can. It helps keep everyone informed and up to date. To answer your question, I had a security system installed for everyone's safety. People were getting nervous. I had hoped to set everyone at ease."

"Makes sense. Hey-uh, have you seen any ghosts around here?" 

"Oh goodness. Please don't tell me ghosts haunt my building. The last thing I need is some perverse ghost scaring my tenants. It's hard enough keeping everyone here while Jimmy is sick."

"Oh no, Mr. Addison," Dean waved his hands wildly, "nothing to worry about it, just uh... just a school project."

"Oh goodness. I was about to have a panic attack. I really can't handle any more stress right now." Dean felt bad, the dude really did sound stressed. 

"Oh, don't worry, sir, You're doing a great job, don't be so hard on yourself."

"Dean, you're too kind." And he disappeared into his apartment again and Dean headed up to Charlie's place.

He knocked on her door twice before she answered and called him in. She was standing in her livingroom with a boy he'd never met before. The kid seemed to have a sweet-tooth; he had a sucker in his mouth and it seemed like his book bag was bulging with more. Kid's dentist must hate him.

"Sorry Dean!" Charlie exclaimed, "I had to finish this tutoring session with Gabe. Belive it or not, his parents pay me pretty well to teach him things he already knows." She smiled at the boy- Gabe- who smiled back.

"I can't help that school is boring, red." Gabe retorted. It seemed to be an inside joke between the two of them. He turned to Dean, "I'm Gabriel Cambell, or Gabe as Red put it. I'm a freshman, just like her. You must be Dean, Red's talked a lot about you."

The guy was trying to raise Dean's heckles, but he forced himself to remain calm, "Have you? Good things, I hope." If he grimaced under his prosthetic, well, nobody needed to know.

"Well, Dean-o, that's between me and her. Love to stay and chat, but I've got places to be, pranks to pull. Thanks for the help today, Red."

Charlie sighed, as if she'd done this a thousand times before, "No big, just stay out of trouble and don't antagonize my friends."

He waved behind him, calling out a "No promises." Before shutting her front door behind him.

"You alright, Dean? Gabe can get under your skin if you let him, but he can also be a pretty good friend when you need one." She explained.

"What?" Dean snapped out of his annoyance, "Oh, yeah, yeah. I'm good, I'm cool."

Well now, he was being the weird one, "Okaay then, what brings you to Casa De Charlie?" She replied.

"So, uh, weird question first and out of the way. You belive in ghosts?" Dean was getting sick of asking.

"Huh, didn't expect that." Charlie waved for Dean to follow her to her room as she spoke as she walked. "ghosts could exist, but..."

"But?" He asked, sitting on her bed.

She sat in her computer chair, slightly swiveling in as she replied, "But- I'm a woman of science and no real, concrete evidence has presented for me to say for sure. I keep looking and more into it, it can be pretty fascinating."

"Makes sense." It didn't, at least to Dean, but hopefully she'd still be interested in helping him. "I see dead people." he half-joked.

"Dean, it's not great to joke about Mrs. Mills- poor Jody, she was nice to me." Charlie scolded him.

Dean held his hands up, " You got it wrong, Charlie. The building's haunted. I'm trying to find out whatever I can about the ghosts here." Dean then told her everything he knew.

"Oh wow, oh gosh, Dean- that's a lot to take in. I- I'll help you in any way I can. Poor Ben. Maybe you can help me figure out what's going on with my bathroom. I think a ghost might be in there." She explained.

"Really?" Dean asked.

"Really. Although, it is weird that both Ben and whoever's in my bathroom are both... y'know, in bathrooms. I wonder if the pipes work as some sort of conductor for them- a source of energy, maybe?" She turned towards her computer, fingers already flying across the keyboard to find out. She found her answer quickly and turned back to Dean. "Do you have the Gameboy cartridge with you now, by the way?"

"Yeah, I've been carrying it basically everywhere since I found it. Cas thinks it's creepy." Dean replied, in awe of how quickly she'd apparently found what she was looking for.

She pushed away from her desk, "Awesome, let's go check out my bathroom real quick and we'll come back here after. Also Cas is right, it's kinda weird, Dean."

Dean followed her out and into the bathroom. "It's coming in handy now, ain't it?"

"That's true. How do you usually get Ben to appear? How often does the game light up when he's near?", She asked, bouncing in place.

"I usually just call out to him? Like talk to the empty room until he shows up. Sometimes it lights up, most of the time- it doesn't." Charlie motioned for him to continue, so he turned away from her and towards the room itself, "Hello? Anyone here?"

They waited a couple minutes, but nothing showed. He handed her his Gameboy, but neither of them noticed any reaction. Charlie turned the system over in her hands, "Y'know, I could probably modify this to pick up spiritual activity a bit better- you'd still be able to play it, and it'd only work if this specific cartridge is in."

Dean thought about it a moment before agreeing, "Sounds good to me, you got everything you need or do I need to go scavenger hunting?"

Charlie looked over the game boy again, turning it this way and that, "I'm pretty sure I've got most of what I need in my room- but I need something that'll amplify the reception and then something to boost the output." Dean just tilted his head at her in question, "an antenna and battery pack, Dean."

"Oh, yeah. Okay, I can get those easy- My dad probably has them in his parts box," Dean explained.

"Coolio, I'll be in my room whenever you've got them." She left the bathroom with his Gameboy.

Dean stepped out of her apartment and headed to his own. He and his dad improved communication, but everything remained tense. Especially since the second week they were there, Dean had to call Bobby and tell him his dad was drunker than a skunk.

The old man had hauled ass down there and told Dean to go find Cas- he'd told him about his friend the second day- and he'd laid into his dad for a few hours before finding Dean in the basement- thanks to Jimmy. There he met Cas, and hugged Dean, telling him he did the right thing calling him. They talked for a moment before Bobby had to leave again. His dad had mumbled at Dean that it was his business what he did when he was off work, but had stayed sober since that day.

"Dad?" He called when he stepped in. His dad was home from work today, having finished an extensive project yesterday.

"Yeah, Dean?" he called from his from his room.

"I need some spare parts. Is it cool if I take them from the spares box?" he asked. It was better and less painful to ask permission rather than forgiveness.

"Yeah, Dean, That's fine. The box is down in the Impala, you're lucky, I was just about to meet my boss to let him go through it. Said he needed the extra parts. Get what you need and bring the keys back up to me- they're in the bowl."

Score. "Alright, Dad. Be back soon." He grabbed the keys and headed down. , and walked outside to the parking garage. The parking garage wasn't huge, so he got to Baby quickly. He opened her trunk, quickly rifling through the spare-parts box. His dad collected some strange in the box, so Dean could find both of the parts he needed. Dean grabbed a longer antenna, just in case.

He shut the trunk gently, taking extra care with Baby- she'd be his one day, and he wanted to get into the practice of treating her nicely. He went back to his apartment, giving his dad the keys, reminded him to call Bobby for their weekly check in, and bidding him goodbye, before heading back to Charlie's place.

He didn't bother knocking this time, just walked in and straight to her bedroom. She was back in her computer chair, focused on her screen, and she was typing furiously. It didn't look like research to Dean, so he cleared his throat. She blushed, but minimized her tab and turned around. 

He held out the pieces he'd gotten from Baby, "Will these work?" 

"They're perfect!" She exclaimed and quickly got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cursing, main character death mention, serial killer mention, not trusting the police, parental abandonment, animal death, lucifer, ghost activity, mentions of demons, mentions of curses, snow, character overstimulation, overstimulation of autistic character, nonverbal autistic character, sick character, bee puns, misgendering cis character, John Winchester's A+ parenting.
> 
> As always you can ask me or the characters at our tumblr page.


	6. The Wretched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG CHAPTER! Whoop As always Warnings at the end. Plus a life update.

"Behold!" Charlie exclaimed as she finished," The Super Gameboy Advance!" She handed it over to him.

She'd attached bright red handles to his Gameboy, and parts from her own walkie talkie- how did every kid in this apartment have walkie talkies Dean wondered to himself- he flipped it over, the strange cartridge was still in, but she kept her word and Dean could change it out easily. She pointed to the light she'd added near the antenna at the top.

"When a ghost is nearby, this will light up blue- instead of your whole screen lighting up and it should keep your battery usage down. To get the absolute best results fully extend the antenna. You can do that by pressing this button," she pointed to a button on the bottom of one of the handle " You can press it again to get an electrical output and basically force the ghosts to show. Oh, and I played that game in there. It's a simple horror game- the ending is pretty sad, though- everyone dead."

That settled it, Dean decided. Charlie was awesome.

"I played it a bit after they arrested Metatron. But yeah, I think I got the gist," Dean remembered the game vividly, but shook it from his mind.

"Let's take it for a test run." she bounced in place, excited.

"Sure, let's do your bathroom first? It's closer."

Charlie agreed, and they made their way to her bathroom. When they were both in, Dean pressed the first button that Charlie had indicted to, and the antenna shot out, the blue light coming on immediately. He looked over at her, impressed. She cocked an eyebrow, so he pressed the other button. Nothing happened and her cocky look fell.

"But I-I," She looked close to tears, thankfully the lights started flickering, a man came up from the toilet. The same way Ben did last time he'd appeared to Dean- first muscles, then skin. He was a tall, red-headed woman. She was crying- near nonstop, definitely more than Ben had been.

"It worked!" Dean cheered. He went to fist bump Charlie, but her mouth fell open and her eyes widened. She was motionless- in shock.

"Holy crap," she said, astounded.

Dean ignored her a moment, "Hey, uh, Lady. What's the matter?"

"I never thought she'd kill them. I... it's all my fault!", she cried through his sobs.

"Who?" Dean asks.

"Greg and his son. Oh god!" She cried, "I was an idiot for falling for a married man!"

Dean felt bad for her, so he said something he didn't really believe, "It's never a crime to follow your heart."

The ghost of the woman kept sobbing, "It's kind of you to say, but I know better than that now."

"Why haven't you moved on?" Dean asked.

"I can't... We can never leave..." she trailed off.

"Why haven't you moved on? What's keeping you here? Have you heard of the yellow-eyed demon?" Dean demanded.

"No. No. No! No!" the ghost screamed, "she's here!"

Everything went quiet, Dean could see the man was still sobbing but he couldn't hear it. "Who's here?" he shouted.

"I have to go." the ghost dissolved completely, the reverse of the way she'd come. The lights flickered, and Dean could have sworn he'd seen yellow eyes staring at him in the mirror. Everything stilled.

"Holy crap, holy crap, Holy crap!" Charlie yelled, jumping in circles and flapping her hands, "That was a ghost! A real, conscious ghost!"

"Charlie, you okay?" Dean asked, concerned.

She immediately stopped all movement, "Me? Oh, yeah, no. I'm good. It's just one think to read about ghosts and a whole other thing to experience it!"

"Do you need a moment?" He asked, "It can be a lot to take in."

"Nah, I'm good now. I've had my fill of excitement though, so I think I'll stay here and see what I can find out about Addison Apartments."

"Charlie, you're awesome. While you do that, I'm gonna this baby for a test drive." He shook the Gameboy in his hand.

They both went their separate ways, with a promise from Dean to return. He immediately went down and show Cas and impressed him with the new super GBA.

"Do you mind if I head to the treehouse? I won't touch anything, just checking for ghosts." he asked.

"That's alright, Dean." Cas allowed after a moment.

Dean sent a thanks over his shoulder as he bundled up. He headed out into the snow. It bit harder now that he didn't have anyone to talk to. The snow crunching beneath his feet seemed louder. And the climb up the ladder to the treehouse seemed longer. Dean felt he was being a little dramatic, it was just a treehouse.

He held his Gameboy out, the same way he did in Charlie's bathroom, and walked around the treehouse. There was mostly nothing until he came across the same picture of Cas and his family from earlier. He pressed the button and unlike Ben and the other ghost, this was just a floating head-shape. The eyes and mouth blurred out, and it didn’t really have a nose. It didn't have a consistent skin color either. It flashed between the colors of the rainbow. Like static on a TV.

It tried talking to him, but he didn't understand. Coming through with poor reception. He told the head so, but it kept trying before it ultimately disappeared. "That was weird," he said to himself. "But then again, so is my life."

Dean left the treehouse and went back into the apartment building, waving to Cas and heading into the other boy's kitchen. Where His Gameboy started acting weird again, the light that Charlie installed, glowing blue. When he pressed the button, a weird symbol came flying at him for no reason. He didn't recognize it, but he remembered it.

He went back to Cas's room, "Hey, dude. Can I have a piece of paper and a pen? I saw this symbol in your kitchen, and I want to send it to Bobby- See if he knows what it is."

Cas seemed confused but handed the requested supplies over. He watched as Dean drew and took a picture with his camera phone. "Maybe it's a clue to help me find my mom." Cas supplied.

"That's what we're hoping for, buddy."

They both said quick goodbyes before Dean was off. He wondered if there were any more strange symbols around the building, so he went up to the fifth floor. He started in 502. Someone had left a birdcage in the middle of the floor. Dean pulled out his Gameboy, which had lit up. And again, when he pressed the buttons, symbol came flying at his face. He'd kept the paper that Cas gave him and drew the new symbol. Dean then went down. He knew there wouldn't be anything on his floor, so he went to Metatron's old place.

The bathroom still stunk to high hell, so Dean wouldn't be going in. He stood in the Livingroom when his Gameboy started glowing again- another symbol. He drew it and continued down to the first floor.

He suddenly felt the need to check on Rowena again, so he walked into her place, and up to her chair. His Gameboy was acting up yet again, but when he pressed the buttons on it and her body started convulsing. Surrounded by static, she looked as though she were a corpse. Her skin either pulled tight against her skull or missing altogether. Dean quickly put the Gameboy away, unwilling to see that again.

"Oh, my!" she exclaimed, "What is that horrific device you have?"

"Oh, uh," he really didn't want to tell the old lady that he was ghost hunting, "It's hard to explain."

"You shouldn't tamper with things you don't understand, young lady." She said.

Dean didn't know how to respond to that, so he just left. He walked next door to Mr. Addisons's and knocked on the door.

"Hello again, young man," he greeted from behind the door, "How can I help you?"

"I've been curious for a while, actually. Why are you running apartments? Everyone seems to like your tea, seems like you'd make a killing in town."

"Well, thank you, dear boy. You know, I did once dream of doing so. Once my father passed, I took up the Mantle and continue running the Addison Apartments." he replied.

"Did you ever think maybe your old man wanted you to follow your own dreams?" Dean asked.

"He might have, though it's far too late now, I couldn't possibly abandon this place and all of its wonderful tenants. I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"You could always sell? There's got to be someone who you'd trust to take good care of this place. And you could pocket the profit to set up your own little shop." Dean suggested.

"An entrepreneur! In my building, truly an inspiration, a young man. However, I have to admit, I'm quite happy with my life here. I can continue my father's dream and make tea for my tenants. It really is the best of both worlds."

"Yeah... I suppose so. Hey, Zachariah?"

"No one has called me that in a long time. Ha!" he laughed, "I had almost forgotten my name!"

"I-" Dean didn't do the whole reassurance thing well, "I just want you to know that I understand. To be afraid, that is. And want to hide away from the world..." Dean carried on, he didn't know why, "And if you ever, I don't know, want to talk, I'm here for you."

There were several moments of silence and Dean worried he'd said the wrong thing before the man behind the door spoke up, "... You're... a good person, Dean... A real friend." He then closed his mail slot and ended the conversation.

Dean decided it was time to go talk to Charlie again. He tried knocking on her bedroom door, but he didn't receive an answer. He could hear her typing though, so he walked in, announcing himself so he didn't startle her.

"Hey, find anything?" he asked.

She turned to him with a frown, "I can't find anything on past murders- and I've looked everywhere. The only one that comes up is Metatron, but look at the photo." She scooted her chair closer to her bed so Dean could see the article she pulled up.

The man in the picture was most definitely not Metatron. The cropped blonde hair was the first give away, but the man actually looked healthy. Not like the fat sack Dean had met. Even if Dean had noticed none of that, he would have to notice the clean, button-up shirt that "Metatron" wore in his arrest photo.

"There's no trace of the officers that were here when you moved in either," Charlie explained, "not even in classified police records. It's like they don't even exist."

"How is that even possible?" he asked.

"I'm not entirely sure," she replied, "but I found something else- missing person from 1993. Ben Breadon, 7 years old. He lived here with his mom, Lisa, and her husband, Greg. He must be the son that the chick in my bathroom was babbling on about."

The stories lined up, Dean thought, before Charlie continued, "It gets weirder, Dean. There was an update to the report, made a day after they filed the original stating that they’d found Ben dead in Wendigo Lake says they'd been fishing and he fell into the river-along with his parents."

Charlie handed him a picture of a little boy - Ben - with a rosary around his neck. He looked like a carefree kid.

"Wait a sec, I've seen that before, he wears it when I talk to him, but I'm pretty sure I've seen it somewhere else." Dean thought aloud.

"Huh, you haven't been able to summon him?" Dean shook his head, "Maybe finding that rosary will help. Y'know connection to belongings and all that."

He nodded, "That actually makes sense."

Charlie turned back to her computer, "Better find it then." 

Dean took that as a goodbye and left. He went to the basement first, thinking it'd be best to check the Lost and found first. He found it there, tucked beneath the shelves. He'd had to lie on the floor to reach it, but he got it. 

"Score! Now Cas'll see Ben for sure!" He celebrated.

He went to Cas's room and told him to follow. The other boy rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. They went to the elevator and up to the fifth floor, Dean filling Cas in on their way up. Cas wasn't sure if it would even work, but he could sure as hell try. They walked straight into 504 Where Dean pulled out the super GBA again and pressed the buttons.

Almost immediately, Ben materialized. 

"Hi-ya, Dee." He greeting 

"Holy shit!" Said Cas. He didn't curse too often, so Dean glanced over in alarm.

Ben looked at him innocently, "That's a naughty word." 

Dean couldn't help it, he laughed, “Forgive him, Ben. He's never seen a ghost before. Cas might be a little shocked, dude."

"It's okay," Ben reassured, "Sometimes my mommy says naughty words too."

Dean didn't know what to say to that, "Where have you been lately, little dude?" 

Ben tilted his head, confused, "What do you mean? I've been here the whole time."

"I've been trying to reach you," Dean explained.

Ben thought about it a moment, "I think when you're alive, you can't see the other side."

"The other side?"

"Yeah!" Ben exclaimed, " That's where we all live. It's just like this side, but a little different."

Huh, neat, thought Dean. "Hey, Ben, do you know anyone named Anna?"

"Oh, you mean daddy's friend! I like her. She brings me candy, and she's always super nice." That was cute, but not very helpful.

"Do you remember anything else about her?" Dean asked.

Ben shuffled in place, and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, thinking, "Ummmm", he said, "Just that she was nice and brought candy... Oh! " he remembered, "And my mommy didn't like her so much, but I don't know why."

Alright then, "What about your parents? " asked Dean. 

Ben got really sad a moment, "I miss my daddy, he said "He doesn't talk anymore." 

Dean hated to push him, but "What about your mom?"

Ben shivered, "Mommy scares me now. She scares everyone... but she wasn't always like that. She used to be nice, like daddy." he continued, unprompted, "I remember they had a fight and then she was really sad. Then her sadness turned into angriness."

Made sense. Dean had one last question, "Do you remember your last days?" something about asking felt off, but he figured it couldn't hurt. 

"I don't know," Said Ben, "It's all blurry now." 

"Would you have been at Lake Windigo?" He asked.

"Huh? No, I've never been. But my mommy would sometimes go with Mrs. Novak."

"Wait, Amelia Novak?" Cas spoke up.

"Yeah," Ben said, "How did you know that?"

"That's my mom." he gasped. 

"Oh, I guess our mommies were friends." Ben giggled.

"Can you tell me where she is? Do you know anything about her? Please, Ben, I need to know." Cas pleaded.

"I'm sorry you lost your mommy. I don't know where she is. I just know that Mrs. Novak went to the lake a lot."

Cas looked heartbroken so Dean changed the subject, He held the rosery up with two fingers, "this yours, Ben?"

"Hey, yeah! Where'd you find that?"

"It was down in the basement."

"My daddy gave it to me, he said it'd protect me from evil stuff."

"Do you know where your daddy is?"

"He's in the bedroom... He doesn't really talk to me anymore...." 

"Do you think he--"

Ben cut Dean off "Uh-oh! Mommy's coming- I gotta go!"

"Wait!", called Cas, but it was already too late, Ben had already disappeared into the floor. "Fuck!" Cas yelled. 

"I'm sorry, man, they never really stick around long." he gave Cas a minute to process what he'd just seen before speaking up. "We need to get into that bedroom, but it's boarded up. Do you or your dad have any tools I could use to get us in?"

"Chuck borrowed our only crowbar and hasn't given it back yet. I've gone up and asked for it multiple times. Maybe you can get it from him?" Cas suggested with a shrug- another thing he'd picked up from Dean. 

"Sure, Cas. I'll see what I can do. Why don't you head back home and take a moment to process? This has to be overwhelming." Dean didn't know if he was doing the right thing, but he wanted to try. Cas nodded, and they went their separate ways.

Dean went to the third floor to 302 Chuck's place and knocked firmly on the door. He was always a little harsh, but he didn't quite know why. 

"D-dean," he answered timidly through his cracked door, "W-what can I d-do for you?"

"Crowbar, Chuck. Cas lent that thing to you a while ago, you know it should have returned by now"

"I- I'd love to give it back, Dean, really I would," he sounded like he was begging for his life, "b-but the kids next door keep knocking my shelves over- it-it's the only thing holding them up right now."

Dean let out a long-suffering sigh "If I talk to them, and get them to be quieter, can you give me the damn crowbar?" 

Chuck winced at the curse but nodded, "I-I'd do it my-myself, but I- uh- I'm out of c-clean clothes."

"I'll be back, be ready with the crowbar, dude." Chuck nodded at the order. 

Dean went next door, he'd only interacted with the college kids a few times, but they'd told him to stop knocking every time, so he just walked in. Their apartment was pretty bare, just some crates, folding chairs, and tables. Dean didn't mind, it actually seemed pretty cool to him to live with so few belongings.

Three college kids sat in their livingroom starting at the TV.

"Hey, Dean! What's up?" the three greeted at the same time. 

"Hey guys. So I need a crowbar from Chuck, but he's using it to hold up his shelves and won't hand it over until I tell him you guys will be low-key tonight. Think you can?" he asked.

The one furthest from him, CJ spoke up from his wheelchair "Little dude, we've, like, totally got you. We can be low-key, right, guys?"

The other two nodded. Dean sent out a thanks and left.

Maybe he could get the fucking crowbar back now without issue. 

He knocked on Chuck's door and heard a yelp from behind the door. "Chuck! Open up. They'll be quieter, now - Crowbar." Dean yelled.

Chuck opened the door wide enough to get the crowbar shakily through, but didn’t open it further. "P-please no yelling" he cried from behind the door. 

Dean rolled his eyes, "Hey, let me in. I'll fix those shelves for you. So you don't steal Jimmy's crowbar again."

Chuck whimpered, but allowed Dean in. The nails holding the shelves up were hardly in the wall. Dean took the hammer resting on said shelves and forced them in. Fixed. He glared at Chuck from behind his prosthetic. 

"C'mon man. Do you have noodles for arms? Next time just hammer the nails in further." He asked. Not bothering to listen for the answer. He noticed a dial on the floor. It looked similar to Cas's puzzle box. He didn't bother asking, just took it and left. 

He attached the knob to the puzzle box and sent Bobby a picture. He then headed up to the boarded up 403. Couldn't hurt to speak to Mrs. Mills. He pulled the boards on the door up, and pulled out his super Gameboy, and she appeared to him when he hit the button. 

"Mrs. Mills?" 

"Who are you?" She asked, talking through the slit in her throat. Dean ignored the wet sound of skin flapping.

"I'm Dean Winchester. I moved in after.... after you died."

"Huh. I can't remember much of it. It's like waking from a dream. Say, kid- you know what happened to my husband? "

"Oh, uh- sorry, ma'am. He took everything out and left. He said he couldn't stand this place. Dude looked devastated. You must have meant a lot to him."

She sighed and ran a hand through her short hair. "This isolation is torture. I miss him so much. Damn, I wish we'd never moved to this place. He wouldn't have met THEM, and Metron would have never.... ugh. It's coming back."

"Go hide, Judy. It's okay."

"Goodbye, Dean." and then she disappeared. He felt weird in this room by himself, so he left and headed up to 504.

He walked straight to the bedroom and pulled the boards from the door. He didn't want to wait, so he walked in by himself. Against the wall was a blood stained mattress and broken shelves. The Gameboy was going wild, so he pulled it out. Pinned to the Mattress with the springs of it was a tall, slender, black man. He seemed unable to speak as one was in his throat, but Dean still called out to him.

"Greg, are you okay?" As he expected, he received no answer, and the man vanished. 

The next place to go was a dark hole in the wall, but Dean felt he needed to build himself up. He wanted to give himself some time, so he pulled out his Gameboy and saw a new game in it. He played it through, though he couldn't remember ever hearing of a game called Seeking Providence. Every level except the seventh was unlocked, so he selected the first level and the screen read: "She desperately sought a place among the Council. So the aspiring witch traveled deep into the castle for the initiation trail: to retrieve to Book of Forgotten Truths."

He was controlling a video game version of what seemed to be a younger Rowena. She had a scarf tied around her neck, something he'd never seen on her when he visited. He led her through the spiked maze, eventually getting to the next part- which was another spiked maze. He did the same as before, and it led to the last maze. In all three, it seemed, he collected parts of a book. It launched him into a cut-scene after collecting the third one. 

Rowena stood in the middle of a pentagram. "I have retrieved The Book of Forgotten Truths. Will you not see my worth now?"

The council all wore hoods. They spoke together.

"The council recognizes the great resolve you've shown us today. Let this book stand as a testament of your place among our ranks from hence forth. May our sight pierce the heavens and our reach be everlasting. For we will be the angels!"

The cut scene ended and took Dean back to the level selection menu. He selected the second one. It read:

"And the mysterious old woman gazed once again into Amelia's eyes and said, 'If you can find the door this key unlocks, we will share the secrets of the universe with you'"

He was soon playing as Cas's mom, which felt all kinds of wrong. He led her through similar mazes as the last level, but these electric ones where Rowena's were spikes. Her level also had buttons he had to lead her to in order to unlock the next area of the level. 

She moved quicker than Rowena, but Dean could get through the mazes with little difficulty. The final one led to a sarcophagus, but no cut scene appeared. Instead, it whited out and sent him back to the level select menu. 

"Weird," he said aloud to no one, but selected the next level which presented him with: "She knew not why this place called to her, yet could not prevent her feet from treading the dirt path before her. Perhaps it was simply curiosity, or perhaps it was destiny."

It now gave him Anna, from Charlie's bathroom, to control. She was in a forest, with bare trees surrounding her. She stood on a dirt path that led directly to a church. Inside were two doors. One had a man in front, guarding it. He led Anna to the guard, but only received a "Members Only" before moving to the other door.

He selected that one, and Anna's dialogue popped up "Sounds like someone is crying. I better go make sure they're okay." and she entered the door.

The next room held three more identical doors, Dean didn't know which to send her through so he guessed and took her directly up. The next room was very much the same, empty, three more doors. He took her through the door directly ahead of her. And again it led through to an identical room. He led her to the room at the bottom.

Another room, Dean hoped it was the last one. He led her through the one directly across from her again. Thankfully, it led to a room without anymore doors. Stood in the middle of the room was Greg. His hands were over his eyes, and he was crying. Dean led Anna to him. 

"Why are you crying?" She asked him.

"Who are you?"

She tilted her head, "I'm Anna Milton. I heard you crying, I wanted to make sure you were alright."

He wiped his eyes, sitting back, "That's very kind of you, I take it you don't belong to this church."

"That's right."

"It's for the best, honestly," he shook his head, "the things that go on here- well, they keep me up at night. I'm so afraid for my son and I. I've tried begging them to stop, reasoning with them just doesn't work and I'm reaching my wits end."

"I understand, I lost my parents to the big factory fire last year. I can't stand to see such a kind soul so upset, so if there's anything I can do to help- please let me know."

He bowed his head, "That's awful kind of you, Ms. Milton. I'm terribly sorry about your parents."

"Please, call me Anna."

"It's nice to meet to meet you Anna, I'm Greg. You must be an angel, you couldn't have come at a better time."

"No, just a humble girl that's happy to help. The pleasure is all mine." She replied.

The scene ended, and it took Dean back to the level select menu again. He selected the fourth one. It opened with: "When his wife learned of his indiscretions, Greg knew there wasn't much time left. In fear of his life, he turned to an unlikely ally for help."

The level opened with Greg on the fifth floor of the Addison apartments surrounded by cultists. "Rowena said I need to cut the power lines on each floor. I hope we can pull this off. "

Avoiding them, Dean led him to the power line on the other side and made him cut it. He did this for every floor, even though as he moved down there were more and more cultists on each floor. 

Once he got down to the basement, however, there was no one in sight. Dean made him cut the power line, but he couldn't use the elevator again. He tried the door one door, but someone had locked it, the other opened to reveal Rowena alone in an empty room.

"I cut the power and Anna's just finished burning the bones. "

"Good," the old woman replied, "I've destroyed our pages of the book of the damned."

"Rowena, do you really think this will work? Do you think this'll stop?" 

Dean could almost hear her thick accent through the game, "We've got a good chance, but it guarantees nothing, child. I think we might have some done it. Ach, I'm just ashamed I let things get this far. Your poor family, I’m sorry that Lisa had to get your wee one involved. If we stop this, their plans won’t come to fruition- they won't be able to perform the ritual for another thousand years."

"Then I pray to God and all his angels that this works." Greg replied. 

Rowena seemed to scoff, "God doesn't care about us, dearie. Don't waste your breath."

And with that, the level select menu flashed on his screen again. This time he selected the fifth one the text on the screen this time read: "The promptly setting sun interrupted Playtime. In that moment, the young boy realized he'd gone far too deep into unfamiliar woods."

So this level was going to be about Ben, Dean figured. He proved himself correct when it loaded on the tiny figure of ben surrounded by mostly bare trees. There were piles of rocks to the left and right that prevented him from going those directions, so he went directly down. Now, the blocked paths were path down and the right, so he went left. The last area had trees more bare than the last two. The upper path, the left, and the right path blocked off, so he went down again. He'd led Ben to Greg. 

"Where have you been, kid? I was getting worried," said Greg.

"I'm sorry, daddy. I just- I lost and I-I," Ben started crying, wiping at his eyes with his hands. 

"It's alright, little buddy. Everything's okay. Here, I want you to have this."

"Granda's rosary?" he asked. 

"It'll protect you from evil in this world. You don't have to be afraid, as long as you have it." He put it around Ben's neck and the screen cut to the level select menu again.

Dean swallowed, unclasped his prosthetic and wiped at the tears underneath before clasping it back and selecting the sixth level. 

It read, "A young occultist found themselves tangled in the bowels of the castle searching for the last components The Council required."

Similar to Rowena and Anna, he led the unnamed cultist through the maze like a temple. For each section he collected skulls. Dean had a little more difficult than the other two, though. The cultist slid around at the slightest tap of the controller, but soon enough, he'd collected the skulls hidden around the temple. After he'd gotten them, it took him to a cutscene.

"I have retrieved the remaining assets." Said the cultist. In front of them stood Cas's mother, and a woman with long, straight hair that had to be Lisa, and Mr. Mills. The skulls Dean had retrieved and more cultists surrounded them.

"Very good." they spoke together, and it labeled their dialogue as the council," the preparations are now complete. Stay within the circle while we perform the summoning. "

"I understand."

The screen faded to black for a moment. When it resumed, the cultist that had stood in the center was now a black mass of misshapen limbs that seemed to flicker in and out of existence- their face gone. The other cult members slowly backed away, but the council stayed, resolute. And the game cut to the level select menu again. 

Dean selected the last unlocked level, Chapter 8, and the text read, "After learning what Sean had a hand in, Mrs. Mills reached out to a friend for help. They would meet up later that night."

"Have a good day at work," Jody told her husband. 

"Promise me you'll stay out of trouble for once, Jody." He replied. 

"But of course," she replied. Dean got the feeling this was a recurring joke between them. He didn't know how he knew, but he did. 

They said their 'love you's and the screen cut to black and resumed with Jody now alone in the empty room. "I have to gather some evidence first if anyone is going to belive this."

Dean knew it was already too late, but he still whispered, "Jody, no." at his screen. 

It faded again, and Jody was now in a room filled wall to wall with cult members. They each paced in erratic patterns. It took Dean so many tries, but he did eventually get the book from the other side and get back to the door. When he did it cut to black again and Jody was in her apartment again, where someone was knocking on the door. 

"Hey this isn't a good time," she called out. Ignored, Metatron bust her door down, "What the hell has gotten into you?!?" She cried.

His limbs flickered, black and misshapen before returning to their normal shape. It took Dean back to the level select menu again. There was nothing else to play though, so he quit. Although, he now had all the pieces he needed to open the puzzle box, thanks to the game. He opened it and a blank computer chip lay in the bottom. 

"What the fuck," he said. "Maybe Charlie will know what it is."

He went back down to the second floor and walked into Charlie's room. Dropping it in front of her without a word, she was so focused that she didn't notice he'd walked in. He plopped down onto her bed, leaning back on his hands. 

"I found that in Cas's puzzle box, think you can tell me what's inside?" he asked. 

"Dean, have you met me? Of course I can." She replied, fingers flying across the keyboard again.

Pretty quickly she was already speaking again, "Dean, whatever this is, it must be pretty important. Not only did it have multiple firewalls, but the contents are all jumbled. Did Cas say where his mom got this?"

"No," he stood up and looked over Charlie's shoulder at the screen, "he wasn't even able to get it open." 

The screen glitched, showing green, white, and red text before Dean blacked out from looking at it. When he woke, he was in a white, blank space by himself. Someone spoke, but he couldn't understand. 

"Yek noitingoc eht dnuof evah uoy, ecno ta lla eldnah tonnac dnim ruoy. diarfa eb ton od. nekorb raeppa lliw sgniht emos."

"I don't understand. What?" he asked. 

"Od to what wonk lliw uoy. emit ni delaever eb lliw gnihtyreve." the mysterious voice replied before Dean promptly blacked out, again. 

He woke on the floor of Charlie's livingroom, his face aching beneath his prosthetic. He didn't know how long he'd been there. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, so he checked it. He had a few missed texts from Bobby. 

"What is so interesting about a rubix cube you had to send a picture?" one read

"Blank paper?" said another

"Dean, I'm getting worried. Call me. Now." said the last one.

He was never one to ignore what Bobby asked of him, so he called and explained what happened.

"Well, boy, I ain't seen anything like that before. I'll look into it and you stay out of trouble, you understand?"

"Yes, sir." he replied. 

"I'm serious, Dean. Something like this happens again- you call me right away."

"I love you too, Bobby." he snarked.

The older man spluttered into the phone, gave Dean another warning and hung up. Dean then walked into Charlie's room.

"Hey, dude," he called, "what happened to that chip I gave you?" 

"Dean, you didn't give me any chips. I do not know what you're talking about. I've been reaching out to other occultists and hackers online, trying to see if anyone knows how we can get rid of that demon you told me about. "

"You're seriously telling me you don't remember the last few seconds? The glitching and explosion of light from your computer?" he asked, incredulous. 

She turned away from her computer, concerned. "Dean, nothing like that happened. Are you okay? Did you get enough sleep last night?"

"You know what, forget I said anything. Must be the nightmares bleeding over." he sighed.

"Dean, please get some rest." She said sincerely as he left. He didn't know why, but he wanted to tell Cas about this as soon as possible, so he headed down. 

"Hey, I got the crowbar," he announced as he stepped into the other boy's room. "and about the puzzle box.." he trailed off.

" You can head up without me, I need to make lunch for my Dad, it's been a while since he last ate. Oh!" he exclaimed," you found the missing piece to my mother's first rubix cube. And you completely solved it. Good job, Dean. That one is pretty tough. " The praise would normally have Dean preening, but it felt wrong. 

"But..." He trailed off, "Don't you remember the metal puzzle box?"

"Dean, I'm not entirely sure what you're talking about."

"Dude, you don't remember? I found it in your mom's wooden chest? In the tree house?"

"Dean, there was no metal box. The rubix cube had your attention, though." Cas replied, confused. "Dean, try to get some sleep tonight. You're wearing yourself out." 

"Uh, yeah... I guess, Cas." He was pretty confused himself, but he decided it was time to check out the hole in the bedroom of 504, so he headed up. 

He crawled through the hole after he arrived. There was a whole other room in there. He pulled out his Gameboy, knowing there would be activity in the crawl space. He walked all the way to the other side, where an empty noose hung from the ceiling. Right under it, the light illuminated the space. Dean pressed the buttons again and felt a compulsion to play In Seeking Providence again, so he opened the game and saw that the 7th chapter was unlocked. 

He selected it and the text this time read, "In a moment she found herself somewhere else. Even though Lisa wasn't sure how she ended up here, she knew what she must do." 

Similar to the last level Dean played, Lisa was in a temple, but an unknown voice spoke to her. 

"The man is a threat to us. We cannot trust him. We will accomplish great things together and cannot afford any obstacles." it said.

Dean moved her through the electrified maze, tapping the controller as she was harder to control than anyone else he'd played as. Her level had a button to press. Then the doorway opened up. 

In the next section the voice read, "The child will only slow us down. He will never follow us with his father's treacherous blood running through his veins." 

Again Dean led her through the maze, hitting the button before moving on to the next section. This time the voice read, "Walk with me into the undying flame and our power shall be endless."

Straight ahead was a button, and a statue of Lisa surrounded by flame. Dean led her over the button, the statue sinking when she walked on it, and into the flame. There was no cutscene, and the compulsion to play finally let up. He put his game boy away. 

When Dean looked up, the spirit of Lisa materialized in the noose. Her eyes bulged, her tongue stuck out of her mouth- swollen and blood filled, her face purple and strained. She made a series of choked sounds, like she was trying to speak, but could not.

"Lisa," he called, "can you hear me?"

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, she dropped from the noose and her body split in half, with a black, smoky mass coming out from her discarded body and screeching at him. Dean blacked out again, and when he came to, Cas stood in front of him, hands on his knees and panting hard- a strange device in his right hand. 

"What the hell," Dean panted, "just happened."

"I got this," Cas waved the device in the air, still panting, but mostly recovered, "from Charlie. She said that theoretically it could overload a spirit. Banishing it forever. After she gave it to me, I rushed upstairs to make sure you were okay. " 

Dean chuckled humorlessly, "It's a good thing you did. Bastard's finally gone for good. "

There was a moment of relieved silence before Cas spoke up, "The demon- It was here before I was even born. I-I'm not cursed after all? It was all just," his voice wavered and tears filled his eyes," just bad luck? My mom she... she really... really...." he trailed off, crying in the earnest.

For the first time, Dean didn't know what to say- he'd never been good at the whole comforting thing, but he knew what to do though. He pulled his friend in, hugging him for all he was worth as his best friend sobbed into his chest. Dean ached for him, almost feeling his broken heart for himself. He still couldn't believe that Cas's mom would just up and leave him. Something would have pulled her away. After all, Dean couldn't imagine anyone not loving this boy enough to stay. 

~14 years later, Gath's office. Sunnydale rehab center. Lebanon, Kansas~

"Do you think Castiel found closer in that or do you you think it wounded him more, Dean?" Gath asked, sat across from him as always, Dean's prosthetic on the table between them.

"I-" Dean sighed, "I don't know, Doc. We never really talked about it again." 

"Why not?" it seemed like a genuine question. 

"I don't know. I didn't feel like it was my place to ask him, and with Cas being, well, Cas, I doubt he would have brought it up with me, anyway."

"Alright. Well, thank you for sharing in this session, Dean." He glanced at the clock behind Dean's head. "It looks like we're out of time, but I have some good news before the orderlies come and get you. The board approved Sam for visitation."

Dean let hope blossom in his chest. The last time he'd seen Sam was before the incident in Kansas, over 20 years, he hadn't even remembered he'd existed.

"There is, a catch though," Gath said hesitantly, "They want you to treat it like a normal session. Talk to him about you life in the apartments. I'm to sit in and monitor and only interfere if you become volatile again."

The hope that had blossomed soon shriveled. He didn't want to Sammy to know about the apartments, about what landed him here. But- he hadn't spoken to him in a long time. Over a year had passed since he learned he had a brother, he couldn't let it go. Dean thought about it and weighed his options before agreeing and putting his prosthetic back on.  
Garth wrote something down and nodded at the orderlies, signaling that they had finished their session. They came in, ushering Dean to his room, where Dean lay down, awake for the rest of the day thinking about what he would tell Sam and coming up blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> themes of suicide, themes of murder, demons, mysterious apparitions, strange symbols, witches, conspiracy, cults, mentions of child murder, mentions of child abuse, cursing, hinted infidelity, being mean to Chuck, tbh cannon chuck deserves it, ghosts, somewhat bad description of a video game, bending of reality, hints of parental abandonment, therapy
> 
> SO life update: My 3-almost-4 year old sister fractured her wrist, work has been so bonkers that I barely have time to write, and I barely have enough to pay my bills this month. Also I deleted the tumblr page. I'll bring it back when I finish the story- for extra lore and stuff.
> 
> brightside? I got myself ahead 3 chapters and I'm workshopping the ending.


	7. Premonitions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So life update: I twisted my ankle, but that's overshadowed by the fact that I'm starting testosterone soon! It only took 6 years after I came out!

Dean was in the empty, white space again. The same one from before the puzzle box disappeared. It hurt to be here, everything was too bright. The head he'd seen in Cas's treehouse in front of him, speaking. Dean couldn't understand it, but it was more clear than last time. Even the features were more clear. He could see short, blonde hair and eyes so blue they rivaled Cas's. 

"-e w--- ---h- a--el-, ---y a-- n-t wh--t ---y s---." it said.

"What?" he asked. 

"---d m- -- --e m---l-. --e d--- --ll -- b---en, -- -ou -- e----th--g r--ht. --, D---. I b----- -- -ou." it said. 

"I don't understand." he begged. 

" n-- -af-, --n-"

"Please, I don't understand you." 

"R--!" it yelled, despretely, then tried again. "--n! R--! RUN!" that time it came through clear as a bell, then disappeared altogether. 

He glanced behind himself. A monstrous combination of a man was running up behind him. The head misshapen, close to normal shape, but not quite. Chest concave, from as far away as Dean was, he could see every rib. Its hands hung far past what Dean could only assume were knees. Its skin was a sickly white, and it snarled and snapped at Dean, as if trying to consume him. Every step it took, it filled the area with a thunderous sound, and it ran with such speed Dean barely hoped he could outrun it. 

But he tried, his feet slamming down on the ground and leaving dark, bloody footprints behind him. As he ran he came across machines, he didn't know what they did, but to put space between him and the monstrosity, he knocked them over as he came across them. It seemed to work when he came across a broken door and could no longer hear the beast. He pushed the door, watching in awe as the pieces faded away. 

He stepped through space, the only difference between this one and the last one was the blue and white faded tile floor he now stood on. The disembodied head greeted him again. Although this time, it flickered between a human face and static. The purple, yellow, and blue flickering and making features clear when they appeared. The face looked more and more like Cas's mom. Although, it seemed, she'd given up on words, spouting random numbers at Dean instead. 

"8-9-7-9-7-3-6-7-6-5-6-4-6-3-6-3-6-2-7-6-9. h---y, it's fading." 

She faded away again, and in Dean's hand now was an old hand held phone. The handset was black, like a void, and the golden buttons seemed to float on it rather than in it. He dialed in the numbers she'd said, not understanding why, but knowing to do so anyway. After he did though, everything faded, and black, a comfortable feeling, the darkness, in front of him- a brown, leather-bound journal surrounded him, floated in midair. Cas's mom didn't reappear, but he could hear her this time, more clearly than she'd ever been. 

"You must learn from my mistakes. Do not take the same path we once did. For everyone you love, everything you are, Dean. We are counting on you. 73 hours. Be prepared. yjw gddgy skoo flg skgy okdw." 

Well, he thought, no pressure. He stepped forward to grab the journal, but found his feet heavy and difficult to move. Still, he pushed forward, grabbing it. As soon as he touched it, his ears started ringing. It grew louder and louder, he could barley stand it. It was too loud. It hurt so badly. It felt like someone familiar trying to reach through though, so he spoke. 

"I don't-" he strained, "please, I don't understand. Speak English, please." 

He blacked out yet again, and he could feel a small amount of blood trickling from his ears.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was Dean, but he wasn't. It didn't feel right at all, but he walked forward. In front of him stood a stick man, just like him. Someone had scribbled out his face, though. When he tried to speak to him, he received screeching instead. Okay, then.

He moved forward again, now running into a stick woman with a triangle head. "What's with your friend back there," he asked. 

"You have no room to speak, round head. You should leave, you'll frighten the children."

He was more offended than he had any right being, "I'll frighten the children, what about your pal back there?" 

"He was a triangle head, like me. The truth destroyed him from the inside out. Now leave, freak."

Well, Dean got his answer. He took the ladder leading down. And saw a stick woman without her body. She was crying heavily. 

"What's the matter? Where's your body?" he asked. 

"Well, I never!" she shouted, her voice shrill, "how would you feel if I asked about your freaky round head? Shoo, go away!" 

He walked forward, feeling slightly ashamed of himself until he ran into another stick woman, her head a square, and her body missing as well. 

"Don't mind my sister," she said, "she's just cranky because of the sun. Long ago, the beast cursed our ancestors. Since then, they have drawn us without limbs. If you wish to learn more, seek the prophet, beyond the field of death." 

Well, that made sense. He thanked her and moved on. Standing in front of the ladder was a huge scribbled monster with one eye. 

"Are you the beast?" Maybe not the best assumption, but he wanted to know. 

"Well, **** you too friend." it growled at him, "no, wait. I'm sorry. I'm just in a foul mood, the sun hasn't been quite right, and it's put me out of sorts. No one has spotted the beast in over a hundred years." 

"Do you know where the great oracle is?" he asked, glossing over his second mistake.

"You mean the old hag who lives past the field of death? Just take the ladder down. It's always a ladder down." 

Dean did so, taking the ladder down to the last level. In the corner stood a stick figure with a hexagonal head. He stood hunched over, cane in hand. 

"Are you the oracle?" he asked.

"You shouldn't have come here," The old man said. 

"Where am I?" he asked.

"A dark place."

"Is this the field of Death?"

"Horrible things happen when the sun burns out." That seemed as close to a yes as he was getting. 

Dean stepped away and walked past a field filled with bodies like his. Men and women alike lie dead in this field, some scribbled out, others faded beyond recognition. Their bodies created a circle around a big, bright pink eraser. It nearly killed him to look at, but he walked further. To a folded fortune teller.

As he walked up, it unfolded to reveal a heavily detailed elder. She held a crystal ball in both her hands, as if cradling it. He'd never met her before- he was sure of it, and yet she felt familiar all the same. "Are you the prophet?" He asked. 

“The sticks call me many names. “  
As she spoke, her mouth opened, not to reveal a tongue and teeth as Dean had been expecting, but an undying and never ending darkness that he felt strangely comforted by. 

"Do you know the beast?" he asked, trying to get a simple answer.

"It crawled through the great hole many years ago. It ravaged the sticks for decades before a magnificent explosion in the sky laid it to rest. Most believe it to be dead now, though we know better."

"What is the great hole?" he asked.

"Eons ago, we created a Great Hole in the papery fabric of this world. A Hole that contains the cumulative knowledge of all the universe."

Neat. "How do I get there?"

Instead of answering, she posed her own question, "What is the truth worth to you?" 

Dean wasn't sure how to answer that, but he'd come this far. There was no reason to turn back now. 

"Everything." he answered solemnly. 

She didn't answer him, but rubbed her hands over her crystal ball and transported him to a blank paper. There was nothing- no one around that he could see. Even the familiar sounds of the last place faded away. It was just him and this space here. He walked forward again, not knowing what to expect. 

Nearing the edge of the page, surrounded by light, pencil lines was a rip in the paper, one so large anything could come through. And yet, as he stared into this endless and dark hole, he felt his conciousness being pulled away. Something dark lurked in that space, and with every second he spent there it pulled more and more of his identity away.

Until he was nothing but a scribbled face and a useless body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: alluded body horror, alluded mass death, coded messages


	8. Lunch Meats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always notes are at the end.

~Present Day, Sunnydale Rehab Center cafeteria. Lebanon, Kansas~

It was finally the day. Sam's visitation. Dean took Garth aside early that morning and asked if it could be a lunch session. He couldn't stand the thought of Sam seeing him without his prosthetic, but if his brother was anything like him, he'd ask anyway. This way, he could pretend the glimpses he would allow Sam to have were accidents.

Garth smiled brightly at him and told him it was a wonderful idea. Dean couldn't think of what to say, only reminded him to not serve him bologna.

Only a couple hours later, the long-lost brothers sat across from each other in an awkward silence. In front of Dean was his usual meal- a bacon cheeseburger, extra onions. He wanted fries, but the center promoted healthiness, so he had apple sauce. He didn't mind; it was easier to get under the prosthetic. In front of Sam was a plain kale salad. No dressing or anything. He seemed to enjoy it, though. Dean didn't know how he ate the rabbit food, but didn't criticize, yet. He didn't want to lose his brother again.

Dean glanced over to Garth for help, but the young therapist only shrugged and made ushering hands for Dean to say something. Dean shook his head, not knowing what to say. While he and Garth went through this, Sam had apparently thought of what he wanted to say and spoke up. 

"Dad's trial is tomorrow. Is it true he's representing himself?" Sam, ever the lawyer, seemed confused.

Dean turned to him "As far as I know, yeah. According to the 5'0 he'd have to plead guilty, anyway. They had caught him in the act. I'm supposed to testify against him, it'll be my first time out in a while"

"They wouldn't tell me over the phone, Dean." Sam stated, "How long have you been here?"

Dean, honest to god, couldn't remember, the beginning was blurry to him. Sometimes he forgot how old he was now, so he looked back over at Garth, silently giving him permission to discuss his case. However, in case the head honchos were watching, he spoke it too, surprising Sam.

"Dean's been here about 4 years now. Since he was 25. First, he was in addiction and drug recovery, now we're working through his trauma from ages 5 through,," he flipped through his notebook, making sure he got it right, "Well, right before he arrived, just to make sure he doesn't relapse when he's released. Dean's making remarkable progress. He might actually earn supervised release soon." 

Dean preened at the praise. He’d had very little with John, so he’d become a sucker for it. Sam seemed to have noticed and smiled to himself- proud of his brother. They sat a couple more seconds in silence before Sam seemed to think of another question.

"It seems stupid, still, that he's representing himself. Even a student knows that... Do you know..." he trailed off, "did Dad sell me before or after you got that?" he nodded towards Dean's half unclasped prosthetic- open only so that he could eat.

Dean sighed heavily. He was almost glad Sam brought it up, so he wouldn't have to. "It's still fuzzy for me, dude, but I'm pretty sure it was after..." Dean let himself trail off and he looked away so he wouldn't have to see Sam's face fall. "Bobby said you reminded him of mom. But, uh, don't blame Bobby, he didn't know where Dad had taken you. And as soon as he did..."

He heard him shift, though, and brought up a less heavy topic.

"I hear you and Gabe connected over the case, Sammy, hows that going?"

Sam blushed heavily, and rubbed the back of his neck, "He's still got some issues from that day to work through, but we're doing pretty good. He goes by his full name now. I'm thinking about asking him out after this visit. Y'know Garth called me this morning and told me something that I still don't understand. You asked them to not serve bologna. What's the story on that? Is it a trigger or something?" Sammy did his research, Dean thought to himself.

Dean was more comfortable with this topic, already hashed it through with Garth. "It's not like that. It's not a 'trigger' and I'm not afraid of lunch meat. It's just one of those things where I got into something I shouldn't have, and now I can't eat it. Why didn't you ask Bobby on the way? He knows all the details. "

Sam shrugged, taking a bite of his salad. "I tried. He wouldn't tell me. Said it was your story to tell. Oh, but he asked me to tell you that Charlie is still the same through I have no clue what that means. Who's Charlie?"

"She was one of my best friends throughout highschool. Along with Gabriel. She was the one that called the police that night, but it messed her up. Bad." Dean explained.

He sighed and looked at Garth again, asking if it would be okay to rehash with Sam. His therapist made a note and nodded at him. And so Dean told his story. 

~ 13 years ago, Azcro High. Maddison, New Jersey. Dean's sophomore year. ~

"Mr. Winchester..." a voice called, "Mr. Winchester... Wake up!"

"Wha-" he mumbled as he startled awake.

Mrs. Carrigan stood at the front of the room, her voice sickly sweet. "That doesn't look like math work to me, Mr. Winchester.”

"Sorry I must have doze off, I finished my test early." 

"I know, Dean. You aced it as well. Just try to stay awake for the rest of class. Alright?" 

"I'll try." he said, celebrating at his score- he and Cas had studied hardcore for over a month- even pausing their ghost hunting to do so. He'd earned that grade, and he was proud of himself for it.

"Eyes on your own paper, Fergus MacLeod." Dean hadn't even noticed he had turned around, but he glared at Dean, then scoffed and turned back in his seat. Scribbling answers harder than he’d been before.

"Class is almost over, everyone hand in your papers, please." She announced right before the bell rang.

After class, Dean stood in the hall with Cas. They were chatting about nothing in particular and waiting for the rest of their group to come join them for a hang out session since school was over. 

"Hey, squirrel!" Crowley called, "nobody likes a goody two-shoes, Deeeeean "

He rolled his eyes and replied, "Nobody likes a cliche bully, Crooooowley ."

"Don't you have studying to do?" Cas chimed up," If your math grades are anything to go by, you definitely need it."

"Shut up, Giraffe, I wasn't talking to you." If looks could kill...

"Hey!" Dean barked, moving to stand in between them, "You don't talk to him that way. Maybe if you took that stick out your ass for once you'd have fun and make some friends."

"Bugger off, squirrel, I have more friends than you ever will!" Crowley exclaimed. It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than Dean.

"Oh, man. You kiss your daddy with that tongue? I bet he--" Dean didn't finish his taunt, as Crowley's fist connecting with his prosthetic interrupted him.

Okay, maybe he took it too far. But honestly, the dude deserved it. Dean's ears were still ringing, but he could have sworn he heard Cas shout something about an assbutt. Dean would have found it amusing if his face weren't smarting.

"Dean, are you alright?" Cas asked, voice filled with concern.

"Yeah, Cas, I'm fine. There are always bigger assholes than Crowley MacLeod. Besides, if I was bleedin' I'd feel it." His dad would be proud that he took the punch like a man, but Cas just looked more concerned. Or constipated, sometimes it was hard to tell with him. 

Cas reached out to... something Dean didn't know, but Gabriel peeled around the corner, knocking into them both and sending all three of them sprawling onto the floor. 

"Hey Dean-o, Hey Cassie. Funny running into you. What's up?" He said in a rush, his question sounding like an apology. 

"Clearly not us." Cas replied in a deadpan voice. Both Dean and Gabe looked at him like he'd grown two heads. "Am I not allowed to be humorous?" At the silence from the other two he huffed and stood- helping Dean up off the ground, "Crowley punched Dean and I was going to report it before you came crashing into us."

Dean helped Gabriel up off the floor and the boys made their way out of the building. 

"No!" Dean and Gabe yelled at the same time. 

Cas cocked his head "Reporting it makes it worse, dude. I can handle it." Dean explained. 

Gabe nodded his head, agreeing with Dean, "The option to just kill him is always on the table."

Cas turned to glare at Gabriel, "No, it is not. I cannot condone such an action."

Gabe put his hands up, "Joking, Cassie. It was an attempt at a joke. Besides, he might haunt the school and the bone-head’d be haunting us forever."

"Ha!" Dean exclaimed, hands flung in the air, "coming from the group skeptic!"

"Look, short-stack-"

"You're shorter than me!" Dean interjected. 

"I love you, goobers, but you have to admit the ghost adventures? Bit hard to belive. Anyway, are we really letting this Cole thing go? Cassie, you're usually much more protective of our little Dean-a-reno here." He stood on his tip-toes to put his arm around Dean's shoulders. 

"I just don't want to make Dean's time here worse. If he asks me to leave it alone, I'll leave it alone. We don't know what home life is like- he has a lot of pent-up anger. There has to be a reason for it." Cas replied. 

"Cas, dude. I'm pretty sure he's just upset they switch bologna day to tomorrow." Dean replied, receiving a chuckle from Gabe, "Seriously, no one I have ever met has so much excitement for the creepiest lunch day. The dude is so not wired right- he hates pizza day! Who could hate pizza! It's almost inhumane." 

"Maybe he's a demon." Gabe said, wiggling his fingers in Dean's face.

Dean shoved him away, laughing "Right, that's just what we need."

They were silent for a moment before Dean spoke again. "Psst, Gabe, I'll help you kill him when Cas isn't looking."

Cas gently shoved him, exclaiming, "Hey, I heard that! No murder, Dean."

The next day, Jo, Benny, Cas, Gabe, Charlie, and Dean sat around their lunch table, Dean with his prosthetic half unclasped. He'd eaten everything except his sandwich and Cas, Gabe, and Jo had done the same. Gabe brought his own lunch, Charlie had gotten a salad, and Benny chowed down on his sandwich with no reserve.

Dean had only taken a bite from it before spitting it out into a napkin, "You guys know I'll eat pretty much anything, but this? Ugh. It smells rancid and tastes worse."

The ones who had gotten sandwiches nodded, "I thought last week smelled bad, this week seems exponentially worse. I couldn't even bring myself to get one." Said Charlie. 

"I heard it's made from goat meat." Gabe chimed in.

"Didn't several students call out last Wednesday after eating the sandwiches from the previous day?" Cas asked. 

"Oh, c'mon y'all," Benny complained, "don't ruin lunch for me. It's the only time-a day I can eat." 

"Sorry, Bens. Everyone else, group huddle?" Dean proposed. 

Everyone agreed except for Jo. "Count me out, Dean bean. Still recovering from the hot dog incident." she'd said

Dean winced, "That's fair. Sorry again." 

She waved him off and stole Gabriel's abandoned lunch, picking at his 'gluten-free, egg free, non-GMO, free range' ham and cheese sandwich. 

"If y'all aren't gonna-"

"Yes, Benny." They all replied in unison, letting him have whatever he wanted of the rest of their lunches.

Everyone else followed Dean to the library. The only times he'd been there had been to gather for group huddles when at least two people opted out. They stood close together and whispered so no one could hear them.

"Those sandwiches are fishier than the Kraken's crack," Gabriel stated, "we need to figure out what's in them. Hopefully, though, it's just a bad batch of beef- or goats. I'm just hoping it doesn't haunt us. "

"It's more likely to blend of low-cost meat scraps from chicken, beef, pork, and turkey." Cas contributed. 

"Cas, dude, you're making my stomach turn." Dean complained.

"My apologies, Dean."

"Heh, beef ghosts." They all stared at Charlie a moment in disbelief before going back to their plans.

"Gabriel could have the right idea, though. If there is an issue with the meat product in our sandwiches, I'd like to look at it on a microscopic level, however it would be helpful to know what the exact ingredients are."

"Alright then. Charlie, you go with Cas. Two brainiacs are better than one. Gabe, you're with me. We're gonna find out as much as we can and report back to the nerds. Sound good?"

Everyone nodded and went their separate ways. Cas and Charlie went to the science room- where Cas had full-time access to the lab equipment. Dean and Gabriel went back to the lunchroom. If they could get the emo dude serving lunches to tell them where the school got the meat, they'd be able to track the vender. They waved to Benny and Jo as they passed.

"Where's your boyfriend, Squirrel?" Crowley sneered, as they walked past, "whoring around already? Tsk, tsk, tsk. What would your dear mother say? Oh, that's right, you wouldn't know- because she's dead."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, "Get bent."

"Don't you have sandwiches to attend to? Be a good little boy and eat your lunch, Fergus." Dean mocked.

He sneered at them both, "You're lucky it's bologna day." and went back to scarfing down his lunch. 

Dean didn't bother trying to figure out exactly what that meant, just continued walking until he came to the lunch counter where the emo guy stood alone, cleaning up and putting old stuff away. He looked up and noticed Dean greeting him while working. 

"Hey, man." He said, purple bangs peaking out from underneath his hairnet, "Is there a problem?"

"Oh, uh, no. Sorry, we just wanted to ask about the bologna, you think you'd be able to tell us where the school buys it from?" That made the man pause in his work and stare at the boys.

"Dude- why? I have to serve that crap and even I think it's disgusting." Dean wasn't sure what to say, so he stood in silence. "I would tell you... if I could, it's against policy. I could get fired and I kinda need this job right now." 

He thought a moment "Tell you what though, make it worth the risk. I'll tell you what I know. But- uh, I know you're both broke, so no money. I don't want you guys to get into too much trouble." After that, he turned back around and went back to cleaning. 

He and Gabe took it as a sign he had finished the conversation, so they walked a few feet away to brainstorm. They spent a few minutes trying to think of something before ultimately giving up and deciding to go look in the dude's file. Gabriel volunteered to go try to steal it- something about wanting to prank the teachers, anyway. Dean used the time to go check on Cas and Charlie. 

On the way to the science lab, Dean spotted a paperclip on the ground and picked it up. Never knew when one might need to pick a lock. He continued to the lab, greeting Cas and Charlie, who were both crowed around the microscope when he arrived. 

"You nerds find anything interesting?" he asked. 

"Not quite," Charlie answered, standing up and grabbing another graph of their table, "Cas eliminated chicken and beef as ingredients, but Mr. Berry has no more meat molecule diagrams we can use as reference. It would help if we had the ingredients list. "

"I'm working on it," he groused, "by any chance would you know what the emo lunch dude likes?"

That got Cas's attention. He looked up from the microscope for the first time since Dean had entered the room, frowning deeply, "Dean, V is too old for you," he said entirely too serious.

"No! Just no. I'm not into dudes, Cas. he's not- No. He wants a bribe for the list. How do you know his name anyway?" Dean told himself he wasn't jealous, but even he could hear the bite in his voice. 

"Before you moved here, he used to help me with in school meltdowns- he actually has an anxiety disorder so he could help more than a lot of the teacher- excluding Mr. Berry. I didn't actually learn much about him during that time, though. I'm sorry." 

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortable. "It's alright, man. Gabe's probably looking at his file now-I better uh, I better go check on him." And with that Dean dashed out of the room, not giving Cas a chance to reply. 

Dean, too focused on getting away, entered the first door he came across- that turned out to be the boy's restroom, where he heard crying coming from the last stall. He also noticed a crumpled up paper next to the trash. He picked it up and despite what his dad had taught him; he read it. 

"My dearest one," it read, "day after day, I ache for a glance from you my way. Maybe it is because of that terrible pain that I make myself cruel- or maybe a boy, a young man, my age should not feel such things for one like you. I beg of you, of God, to forgive me of such feelings- I will burn for them, no doubt. I blame you. Your existence is pure temptation. Your--" it stopped there. Who knew a highschool student could write like that. 

Dean felt sorry for the author. Whoever it was, they were clearly struggling with something. He felt sorry for whoever the letter was for, too. Someone clearly loved them, but all they got was someone who was mean to them. It wasn't fair, Dean decided. He shrugged to himself. He was glad he'd never have to deal with that.

"Hello?" He called out- he'd nearly forgotten about the person crying, but they were still crying.

"D-dean?! Ugh, go away, can't I get some privacy," they sounded like Crowley, but... stopped up. 

"I'd actually like to help instead. C'mon man, I won't tell anyone- You gotta talk to someone, eventually." Dean was uncomfortable, but it felt like the right thing to say.

Dean, too focused on getting away, entered the first door he came across- that turned out to be the boy's restroom, where he heard crying coming from the last stall. He also noticed a crumpled up paper next to the trash. He picked it up and despite what John had taught him; he read it. 

"My dearest one," it read, "day after day, I ache for a glance from you my way. Maybe it is because of that terrible pain that I make myself cruel- or maybe a boy, a young man, my age should not feel such things for one like yourself. I beg of you, of God, to forgive me of such feelings- I will burn for them, no doubt. I blame you. Your existence is pure temptation. Your--" it stopped there. Who knew a highschool student could write like that. 

Dean felt sorry for the author. Whoever it was, they were clearly struggling with something. He felt sorry for whoever the letter was for, too. Someone clearly loved them, but all they got was someone who was mean to them. It wasn't fair, Dean decided. He shrugged to himself. He was glad he'd never have to deal with that.

"Hello?" He called out- he'd nearly forgotten about the person crying, but they were still crying fairly hard, Dean couldn’t just ignore it.

"D-dean?! Ugh, go away, can't I get some privacy," they sounded like Crowley, but... stopped up. 

"I'd actually like to help instead. C'mon man, I won't tell anyone- You gotta talk to someone, eventually." Dean was uncomfortable, but it felt like the right thing to say.

Crowley sighed from behind the door and fell quiet. Dean sighed as well and sat down on the floor, his back against the stall. He didn't want to think about the kinds of things on the floor, but his legs were getting tired waiting for the smarmy bastard to answer him. 

"Look, if you won't tell me why you were crying, can you at least tell me why you hate me? I have done nothing to you, but it's day after day, man." Dean’d be lying if he said he wasn't curious.

"Ugh. You and your little friends are abominations, crimes against God." Crowley replied, Dean guessed he was still going to be a dick about it. 

"You know I'm not actually gay, right? Well, Charlie is and Cas is.... whatever he is. But they're good people. How could anyone hate those two dorks?" Dean replied fondly.   
"Look, is your dad pushing these vie"Look, is your dad pushing these vie  
ws on you, because you seem a little friuty yourself."

That earned him several profanities, "Just because he owns the church doesn't mean he owns me! Nobody owns me except me!"

King of hell, more like, Dean thought to himself, "Dude you seem super depressed, like all the time. Are you really sure your dad isn't pressuring you? It has to be hard being the Son of such a violent man."

He heard a sniffle, then a whispered reply, "You can't possibly know what it's like."

"I'd say I'm sorry to hear that, but I doubt you'd accept it." Dean said, leaning his head back against the stall. 

"I don't need your pity," Crowley hissed.

"Y'know, I don't actually think you're a bad guy. Just someone who's afraid to be himself." Dean sighed before continuing, "look, dude, I don't normally offer this- but if you ever need to talk or get away, you can come hang out with me. I won't judge you."

It startled Dean when the stall opened to Crowley. His eyes were red-rimmed and his nose looked like he’d rubbed it raw. He was looking down, and his posture seemed that of someone who felt ashamed, "Thank you, S-Dean. I-uh, found this on your desk." He handed Dean an envelope with his name on it. Inside was a journal page. "I had been planning on binning it, but.... Look.-"

Dean interrupted, "I won't tell anyone. I promise. Thanks." He said holding up the envelope. He turned, focused on the page- not noticing Crowley's eyes following him and a sad smile appearing on the other boy's face when Dean left the restroom.

Dean walked out and around the corner where he ran smack into Gabriel, who was cradling his phone like it was the most precious thing in the world. In sync, they looked behind Gabe, then at each other with wide eyes when they saw several teachers running from the direction he'd come from. They both scrambled up and booked it to the cafeteria. They separated and sat under tables until the teachers left. Then regrouped afterward.

"So." Dean said.

"So," the other boy replied, a wide smile on his face. 

"Don't hold out on me, man! What'd you find out?" 

"He's got a kid- about 5. I don't know why the school included this in his file, but the little guy loves cats even though he's allergic."

Dean knew exactly what to do. He matched himself up to the mysterious V. "Hey," he called, grabbing him.

"Bologna dude, what's up?"

"Your kid likes cats, right? Does it matter if they're ugly?" Dean demanded. 

"How'd you- No, Pat doesn't see 'ugly' he just likes cats." he rubbed the back of his head, "he's actually been sick lately. Poor kid could use a pick-me-up."

Cas had given Dean 10 Polaroids last week of the same picture of Gizmo over and over. He pulled one out of his pocket. "Will this work?"

"Huh, yeah actually. He enjoys knowing the names. I'm not gonna ask how you got this, though. You don't seem like the type to own a cat."

"It's written on the back there, Gizmo. He's my friend Cas's cat. If Pat ever needs more pictures of that beast, Cas basically has a shrine dedicated to him."

"Here, man. I still don't understand why you want this but just stay out of trouble, yeah? World could use more kids like you." he handed Dean a piece of paper- a label from a pack of bologna. On it read:

Carrigan sliced bologna. 100% beef. Made by Mr. and Mrs. Carrigan.

Huh. Dean and Gabe walked back to the science lab, hoping Cas had forgotten about his tone earlier. When they arrived, Dean handed him the label silently.

"100% beef? That can't be right. Something's wrong." Cas said after reading it and handing it to Charlie. 

"That's your only issue? Mrs. Carrigan lives in your apartments. There's no way she can make bologna there." Gabe stated.

"I'd forgotten she lives there- she's rarely home." Dean scratched the back of his neck.

"Teachers don't earn a big enough salary to support themselves on their own, Dean. She probably has multiple jobs- which is why she comes home late." Said Charlie, "Although, when she is home, she can be pretty noisy."

"So," Gabe said, clapping his hands, "what are we doing about it? Do we report it?"

"No," Dean said, "In case I'm wrong, I'd like to look into it myself first. It feels like there's something bigger here."

"So we'll investigate after school. Today is going to be another late day for her, so it'll give us sometime." suggested Charlie.

Everyone agreed to it, except Gabe- who had to baby-sit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of food.
> 
> next chapter will be super heavy, so the warnings will be at both the top and bottom next time.


	9. Suspicious Teacingings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: I rarely try to tell you guys what to do, but this chapter is heavy and deals with a lot of serious subjects.
> 
> Please, read the warnings before reading the chapter. While this chapter contains plot stuff, I want you to be safe and take care of yourself. If you find you cannot read this chapter, I will list my twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, Facebook, and email (in that order) below so you can get a TLDR without triggering yourself.

Back at the apartments, after school had ended- Dean, Cas, and Charlie stood in the entryway talking through their plans.

"She shouldn't get back until late, so I think we," Charlie looked directly at Dean, "should do our homework before you guys break in."

"Jokes on you, I don't have homework," Dean replied, flipping her off knowing full well he did- and he already finished it. Couldn't look like a nerd after all.

"Dean, we have all the same classes. You have homework." Cas supplied, knowing Dean had already finished it- having watched him do it.

"Ugh. Whatever. I have other stuff to do." Like call Bobby and let him know what was going on- and grab the Super Gameboy from his room.

"Ditto," Charlie said, "meet up in my room later?"

"Alright." Dean and Cas said at the same time.

They went their separate ways, Dean checked the mail first. It was mostly bills and payment reminders. And a cut-off notice for the phones. Dean sighed, he'd have to write the checks when his dad passed out- He made enough for them to live comfortably, he just forgot to pay the bills sometimes.

There was a letter addressed to Dean, though-no return address, no stamp, nothing except his name. Not suspicious at all, Dean thought to himself, opening the envelope. Inside held another journal page. He put in the brown leather cover he had inside his pocket to read later. He went upstairs, taking the bills and placing them on the kitchen table. On the refrigerator was a note.

"Dean, I'll be late tonight. Food's in the fridge. -Dad."

Dean looked inside the fridge. Empty. Looked like he'd be eating at Cas's again- he didn't mind. Jimmy's cooking was the bomb. Dean closed the fridge and went to his room, grabbing his Gameboy. He made his call to Bobby on the way to his dad's room.

"Boy, you better not be getting into trouble now." He greeted Dean. Dean knew better than to sass him, so he stayed quiet. The older man sighed deeply, "What is it now?"

Dean told him everything he knew, "Cas and Charlie ruled out most meats, but it still bugs me we don't know what it is." writing the checks for the bills- copying his Dad's chicken scratch signature with ease.

"I don't like you kids looking into this on your own. Where's dad? Or any of the other kids’ parents?"

"Dad's at work- you know that, Bobby. The others don't belive us- it'll be the egg incident all over again- Jimmy still teases Cas and I about it."

Bobby sighed, long suffering and into the phone, "You think you can put it off for a week?"

"Nope. The bologna keeps getting worse. This is our best chance." after a beat where Dean could physically hear Bobby's worry, he spoke again, "I can slow it down at least. Maybe you if you book it you can make it before we get in too much trouble."

Bobby reluctantly agreed, seeing no other option. They said their goodbyes and hung up. Dean sat back from the checks, planning to mail them off later, thinking about how he could dely the invigation. He could check on every resident? Yeah, he decided, that worked. He stood and stretched, making his way out.

On his way out of his dad's room, he grabbed his dad's gun, just in case. He reached under the bed, grabbing it and something else. It surprised Dean when he pulled out a picture of his mom. She wore a white sundress and a large sunhat. She looked happy. He thought his dad had gotten rid of all of her pictures. He stroked the picture.

"I miss you, mom. Are you happy where you are?" He asked aloud, stroking her smiling face. Dean looked at it a little longer and he took a deep breath, and put the picture back where he found it- and instead found another envelope with his name on it. He opened it and got another journal page. Dean put it with the rest of them, mildly confused. He made sure the safety was on, then shoved the gun into the back of his waistband, covering it up with his shirt.

He walked the rest of the way out of the room, and out of his apartment. He debated with himself for a moment on which way to go, before walking into 403. He hadn't talked to Jody in a while, it'd be good to catch up. He walked to the spot where her blood still stained the carpet and used the Gameboy, as usual.

She appeared like she normally would, and Dean thought she looked more relaxed than she had last year.

"Hey, Jodes." Dean greeted her with a wave. "Still no bright light or anything?"

"Hey, Dean. No, sorry, hon. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, though. I'm glad that demon’s gone. It's just a little... hopeless here. Anything new going on in the world of the living?" She still used the slit in her throat to talk, but Dean had gotten used to it.

"Yeah, actually Cas and I-"

"Hold on a sec, honey," she interrupted, turning her head toward someone or something Dean couldn't see. "Yes, he's here... Right in front of me.... Yeah, I can give it to him..." She smiled at him, "Sorry, Dean. Gotta go. Be safe."

"But-" she disappeared, leaving an envelope where she'd stood.

Dean picked it up. Again, it had his name on it, but no return address. He opened it and found yet another journal page. He put it with the others and carried on. He left her apartment and boarded the elevator, going up to the fifth floor. He walked into 501 first- just to check it out. On the floor was a broken, empty birdcage on its side. If Dean didn't know better, he would think that the last bird it housed fought its way out.

He didn't want to think about though, so he moved to 502. Inside there were newspaper clippings nailed to the wall. He read the titles as he walked past. "The boy that shouldn't be alive.", "Father and Son go missing after crash", "Boy abducted by small blue woman."

Okay, so maybe that last one was from a joke paper, Dean thought. The last nail was empty, but it was making the Gameboy light up. He used it and another envelope with his name appeared. Again, it contained a journal page. Dean wondered why the pages were only appearing to him one at a time, but didn't dwell on it too much. He quickly left again and stepped into 504. Time to visit Ben.

On the floor of the Livingroom was a spirit box, giving Ben the opportunity to communicate even if he couldn't or didn't want to appear. Dean walked past it to the bathroom where the Gameboy was glowing. He used it like usual and Ben appeared.

"Hi-ya, Dee!" The little boy greeted him, an enormous smile on his face. "Have you seen my mommy anywhere?"

Awkward. "Uh, no, bud. I haven't, sorry."

"That's okay," he rocked on his heels, "everyone here seems lighter now. I just hope she's happy wherever she is."

Dean wasn't sure how to respond to that, but he had to say something. "Me, too, kid. Me too."

"Oh," Ben suddenly remembered something, "Daddy and I were playing hide and go seek. "Gotta go, Dee!"

"Alright, see you later, little man." Dean waved to him as he disappeared.

Dean boarded the elevator and went to the third floor. Skipping Chuck and Benny, he walked into 304. He could've sworn someone lived there, but the apartment was completely bare and no one answered him when he called out. Just in case, he pulled out the Game boy, and walked further into the apartment.

Most of the place showed no activity except the kitchen where the light suddenly stared, glowing. He pressed the buttons, like he'd already gotten used to doing, and a letter addressed to him appeared on the floor. He picked it up and opened it, only to see another journal page. Which he placed with the others. Dean searched the rest of the place, but didn't end up finding anything. So he left.

His next stop was the ground floor. He went to talk to Rowena, who, as always, sat in her rocking chair, going gently back and forth. He walked up to her, greeting her as he did.

"Good morning, Dean." she replied, sounding tired. It took Dean nearly a year to get it through to her, he's a dude, but she'd been pretty good about it lately.

"What's up, Rowena? You don't sound like yourself today." He asked.

"Oh, I'm alright," she said, in the same tired tone. "My thoughts distracted me, you know me."

"Oh... uh.." he tried to think of something to say, "did you finish that book you were reading?"

"I did." she replied, sounding disappointed.

"You seemed to enjoy it, what's wrong?" That was true. The last few times Dean had visited, she'd go on and on about it, "Did you not like ending?"

She laughed to herself, "most story endings are a lie we tell ourselves to create a false sense of hope." What a ray of fucking sunshine, Dean thought to himself, used to her downer attitude by now.

"What do you mean?" he asked, regretting it immediately.

"There are no happy endings in reality, dearie. We all get the same terrible ending... death." Ever the downer. Although he agreed with her, he still argued.

"You don't know that. You can't- not for sure. And- And even if it were true, doesn't that make the time you have more precious? It's our one chance to shine before the darkness claims us." during his rant, he stepped close enough for her to reach up and place her hand on the cheek of his prosthetic.

"Little one, I admire your world view. But that's just how things are." She let go and went back to rocking back and forth- this time starting past Dean- at nothing.

Dean, at that moment, noticed the light on the Gameboy glowing a bright blue. He looked at her empty stare and pressed the buttons. In her chair, she rocked back and forth rapidly, visible electric shocks surrounded her. Her form flickered along with the lights, between the old woman that Dean knew and love and a decayed corpse wearing her clothes. Suddenly, it stopped the old woman disappeared. Instead, a younger woman, with bright red hair in Rowena's signature bun, sat in the still rocking chair.

"Oh my, it's been a very long time since I've had this body." Her accent was thicker than the older woman's, "I have to thank you, Dean. You've given me another 500 years."

She handed him an envelope with his name on it- no return address though. "This is for you," she said, "from the other side. Now, if you need me dearie, you'll know what to do."

And in front of Dean's eyes, she vanished. He stood there, slack jawed, before remembering himself and opening the envelope- another journal page. How did she get this? He wondered. He pushed the event from his mind and walked out of the apartment.

He thought about where to go, skipping Mr. Addison- he and Cas had just made him a new sign for his tea and they'd been over almost everyday check on how he was doing. Yesterday, though, he snapped. Telling the boys that he'd get no customers if they were hanging around all day. They gracefully left and told themselves that they'd give him at least a week. Keeping it in mind, Dean instead went to the basement and into Cas's apartment.

He never knocked anymore and just walked in. He walked the opposite way of Cas's room to the kitchen, having noticed Jimmy working on the sink. He knew the Novaks had given him a permeant invitation to dinner- he still liked to give them a heads up if he planned on eating with them.

"Hey, Jimmy." He greeting the man.

"What's up, Dean? Your dad forget to buy food again?"

"Yep. Can I get some grub with you guys tonight? Also, didn't the doctor tell you to take it easy?" he already knew the answer to both questions.

"I'm fine. One sink will not kill me. Anyway, Dean, you're like a second son. Of course you can."

Dean nodded and ended the conversation there. He learned a while ago; it was best to just let Jimmy do what he wanted to. Arguing with him solved nothing. He said his goodbye and went into Cas's room. He knew the other boy had already gone up to Charlie's, but he was still trying to kill time to give Bobby a head start. He got to the middle of the room, when he received a text from said older man.

"On way. 20 min. Go ahead, but delay."

Bobby still wasn't great at texting, but he got the message across. Dean replied with the room number, and then headed up to Charlie's room, where Castiel impatiently waited on her bed. Dean ignored his flat, unimpressed glare and walked over to the other side of her desk where she had a new gadget just hanging out.

"What's this?" Dean gestured to it, buying more time.

"Oh, I didn’t for you to see that yet. It's a portable amplifier with custom effects that will be on your guitar. Unfortunately, you'll have to wait. I'm still expecting parts in the mail. Besides, we have more important things to focus on right now. Are you ready?" she asked.

Her explanation being shorter than normal, Dean had little choice other than to nod. "Good, I've already hacked the security cameras, I'll loop the footage until you two get back. Be careful, please. I don't want to lose two of my favorite boys."

"We will." Dean and Cas promised at the same time.

Together, they left and walked down the hall where Dean picked the lock, with Cas keeping a lookout. The coast stayed clear, and they were in fairly quick. However, As soon as they stepped in an awful stench assaulted their nostrils.

"Dude," Dean gagged, "It smells like *** in here."

"I know," Castiel replied pinching his nose, "We better make this quick, I don't think I can stand this very long."

Dean walked around quickly, doing a cursory glance. Her two bedroom had a setup similar to his, with the kitchen being on the left and the bedrooms being on the right. She had several paintings- some being more armature than the rest- suggesting she'd painting them herself- including a painting of a farm that gave Dean the creeps. The doors to the bedrooms both had mechanisms on them that Dean couldn't pick. The clock on the wall between them stayed stuck at 3:14. He stepped into the bathroom and immediately stepped back out after seeing how gross she kept it. He walked into the kitchen where Cas stood waiting for him by the fridge.

"It's locked." Cas gestured to the freezer. "I still can't pick locks, like you."

"Don't worry, bud. I'll get it. Why don't you look around- see if I missed anything?" Dean really needed to get on to teaching him how to do this himself, but he just didn't have the patience right now.

Cas walked a few paces to a cooler she kept in the kitchen as well. When he opened the lid, Dean could see that it was just more bologna, and some frozen vegetables. Although he saw it himself, he acted surprised when Castiel relayed what he saw to Dean. After he walked off to look at the rest of the apartment, Dean got the freezer unlocked fairly quick- but waited until his friend came back to the kitchen before he opened the freezer.

Together they looked in, Castiel's face pressed against Dean's cool prosthetic. Inside lay a severed goat's head. A small amount of blood pooled beneath it, sticking to the coarse fur. Its tongue flopped out and to the side and its eyes stared into the air, lifeless and blank. Unware of the two teenage boys staring at it in horror. Castiel quickly closed the freezer, both of them backing up and away.

"So, goats?" Dean said to lighten the mood, "Gabe will be happy that he called it."

After a moment of silence, Cas spoke up, "I don't know, Dean, is there any activity on the Game Boy?" he pointed to a bloodstain on the kitchen floor.

He pulled it out of his pocket, and sure enough, the light was on, mocking him. Dean walked closer to the stain and pressed the buttons. Suddenly a goat appeared: first bones, then his muscles, and fur. Although most ghosts dean had seen still had their heads, this one's floated about an inch above its body, blood that never landed dripped from its open neck. It "baaa"ed at him twice, then once, and another two times and disappeared in reverse of the way it'd came.

"What the hell?" Cas said in disbelief.

"A ghost goat, apparently. That shouldn’t surprise me, but that came out of nowhere. I should probably let Charlie know this thing can bring in ghost animals." Dean replied. He shot her a text, taking long enough for both of them to calm down.

"We should probably get into those rooms, Dean. Just in case." Cas supplied when he'd finally caught up with his own mind.

Dean sighed and agreed, knowing that if Cas didn't berate him, Bobby would- for not being thorough. They both traced the walls with their hands, searching for any hidden switch or something. They found nothing until Cas tried to move the hands on the clock and they quickly flew back to 3:14. Dean wasn't sure what to do with that, so he kept walking around, trying to find an answer.

He picked up the small radio she kept on an end table in the living room, just to fiddle with it. He changed, flipped through the stations, as Cas attempted to move the clock hands again. Suddenly they both heard a click, as the first bedroom door unlocked. Dean looked at the clock Cas had been messing with and the hands were at 12:12. Dean carefully pushed the door open, immediately freezing.

"Well, we know where the foul smell came from now." Castiel said, pulling his shirt up over his nose to block out the smell.

"Yeah, this is pretty ******." Dean joked.

He received a glare because it, which he ignored as he stepped further into the room. Inside were multiple bales filled with dirty adult diapers. On the walls were newspaper clippings overlapping each other, all talking about Mr. Carrigan's death. In the center of the room lay a mostly naked and chubby man- his only covering being a diaper wrapped around his waist. He was hooked into beeping machines that whirred and as they did so, pumped his lungs with air. What Dean could only assume was more human waste stained the bed where he lay on. His eyes stared into at the ceiling blankly. Not registering anything around him.

"Hello? Sir? Can you hear me?" Castiel called out, not receiving an answer. He stepped closer, shouting now, "Mr. Carrigan? Can you hear me?"

Dean pulled his friend back by his shoulders, "Dude, chill. I don't think he's gonna respond."

Castiel sighed, saddened. "You're right, he's in some vegetative state. Maybe the Gameboy will work?"

Dean pulled it out of his pocket again, walking up to Mr. Carrigan, the light going crazy. He pressed the buttons, and from the man's chest, a dark, formless... thing emerged. Dean wasn't sure what to call it. It scared both boys when it spoke.

"Please," its voice was weak and raspy, "end my suffering. Please. Please, pull the plug."

"But won't that"

It interrupted Castiel, "Yes. Please."

Castiel moved to the other side of the machine, going to fulfill its request when Dean dashed into his path, putting a hand on his chest. "Wait." He said, turning to the thing in Mr. Carrigan's chest.

"Can you answer a few questions first? Then," Dean gulped, "Then I'll do it. I'll... end the pain for you."

It seemed to think a moment before nodding. Good enough for Dean. "Did Mrs. Carrigan do this to you?" Cas asked before Dean had a chance.

"We were in love once," it said, "or so I thought. Yes. This is her doing."

Dean glared at Cas as he asked, "Okay, dude. What's in the bologna?"

"I'm afraid I know nothing about bologna. This room is my prison, my tomb of infinite sorrow, I can never leave this state." It moaned.

Dean couldn't help but feel disappointed by how unhelpful it was, but in his experiences ghosts couldn't lie. He sighed, knowing he'd made a promise. Like Castiel tried to do earlier, he moved to the other side of the bed where the machine whirred, taking a deep and reaching for the cord when he heard footsteps outside.

The boys looked at each other in panic. "Quick," Dean instructed, shoving him behind one bale of diapers, "stay. hide."

"Dean-!" Castiel tried to protest.

"Stay." he demanded, pulling the gun from the back of his waistband.

"I'll stay, but Dean- if we don't live through this, I... I love you."

Dean stopped, "I love you too, buddy. You're the best friend a dude could ask for- but nows not the time." 

Turning the safety off, he pointed the gun towards the sky. He took a few calming breaths and yanked open the door, aiming the gun at the person in the living room.

"Hands in the air!" he yelled.

"Put the gun down, boy. It's me." a southern, male voice replied, as the figure raised their hands.

"Bobby!" Dean exclaimed, "You scared the **** out of me!"

The older man looked into the room behind Dean and replied with a raised eyebrow, "I can see that."

Dean rolled his eyes and led Bobby further into the room. As he passed by Cas, he pulled him up.

"I found a key to the first room, Dean. We can get in now." Cas said, holding a strange-looking key.

Again he walked up to the machine and before Bobby or Cas could say or do anything, Dean yanked the cord from the wall and watched as the spirit in the middle of Mr. Carrigan's chest disappeared.

"Is he-"

"His pain is over." Dean interrupted, "lets get out of here and go check out that first room."

If he noticed the concerned looks Bobby and Cas shared, he said nothing about it. Together, they left the room and walked back towards the other room. Cas unlocked the door, and they stepped in. On the walls were more newspaper clippings about missing people in the town, and saws of various sizes and shape. All of them had coats of old and new blood. Across from the door sat an ominous cooler, blood coating the lid. Finally, further into the room- a machine with many levers- also saturated in blood.

"Oh, God." Bobby exclaimed, hand over his mouth. 

"It looks like a slaughter factory in here," Dean mumbled to himself, looking at the machine. 

They all walked to the cooler, and Castiel lifted the lid. Inside were piles of human skin soaking heavy in blood. Bobby turned away and vomited on the floor while Dean could only stare at it in silent horror. 

"There's no bones." Cas stated like he was commenting on the weather.

"What?" Dean whipped his head around to look at his, clearly deranged, friend.

"There's no bones in there. It's all just.... meat." 

"Castiel, please. No." Bobby begged before promptly vomiting on the floor again. He panted with his hands on his knees for a moment before blindly closing the cooler. "This... this is way over our heads, Dean- even mine."

"Bobby, every time something happens here its covered up. We don’t know how deep this goes. You have to help us." 

"Well, what do we do?" Cas asked. 

"I don't know, we can't let Mrs. Carrigan get away with chopping people up and serving... ugh."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lying, John wincher's A+ parenting, parent not paying bills, children with guns, parent not buying food, mysterious journal, purposefully delaying missions, hints of character death, ghosts, steven universe reference, ghost children, lying to children, magical shenanigans, descriptions of corpses, cursing, breaking and entering, description of decapitated animal, mentions of dirty diapers, mentions of poop, spouses kept as hostages, spousal abuse, suicidal ghost thing, unsafe gun practices, mercy killing, assisted suicide, killing room, description of corpses with no bones, mention of vomit, mentions of police cover-up, lots of mentions of blood, mentions of a cult, implied forced cannibalism.
> 
> @stevierayfrmhon
> 
> @that_one_transguy_o
> 
> @thatonetransguy
> 
> Ollie Sky (Colorado Springs)
> 
> ollie.sans@gmail.com


	10. Update

I've decided to put this story on hiatus. I just have very little motivation to write it right now. I may return to it some day but for now feel free to check out my other works.


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